


Searching the Depths

by inkabelle_designs



Series: Searching the Depths: A BATIM AU [1]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Alternate Universe-Searching the Depths, Other, Searching the Depths, Searching the Depths (BATIM AU), bendy and the ink machine au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-03-18 03:52:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13673706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkabelle_designs/pseuds/inkabelle_designs
Summary: Henry falling into SillyVision Studios was not the end, but merely the beginning of a twisted tale. A few days after he becomes trapped within its walls, a young printmaker from the streets of NYC falls through the drop and ends up under the watchful eye of Sammy Lawrence. Working together, the two devise a plan to try and set the studio free and get to Henry before the Ink Demon can get their hands on him, resulting in our printmaker, Miss Bella Ewe, joining the ranks of the searchers and playing a double agent. Can these grunts change how the story ends, or will they too perish in the inky abyss known as the Depths?https://searchingthedepths.tumblr.com/





	1. The Day we First Met

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to Searching the Depths, an Bendy and the Ink Machine AU that focuses on Searcher lore. This story started out as an interactive thing that I did on tumblr, and I'm still going to be running it there as well as on here. Not much to say that you didn't already read in the summary, though as a brief warning, this starts in the middle of the whole ordeal. Hope you enjoy what this twisted tale has to offer!

Chapter 1: The Day We First Met

From the Desk of F.K.E.

“So, what’s your story?”

A young lady sat cross-legged on the Prophet’s weathered desk. She’d taken off her worn newsboy cap and laid it in her lap. Gently she tried to fix her scruffy hair with her hand, but it wouldn’t suffice without a brush. The ink-swallowed man in suspenders that sat in the chair beside her stared at the floor. The mask on his face slipped a little. It was unlike him to not immediately fix it.

“My dear sheep, I’m afraid there’s not much else to say. You claim you heard the tapes that reside on this level. Those hold a majority of my tale, to go any further would be…”

Sammy tapered off into the silence. The girl on the desk hopped down from her spot and hugged him tightly. His ink was sticky, and there was no doubt that it was staining her already filthy clothes, but she didn’t mind. There wasn’t a whole lot she could do, she couldn’t begin to imagine the horrors this studio had faced all that time ago. But that begged the question, why was it all still here? Could it be fixed?

It took Sammy a moment to react. His body stiffened in the girl’s arms, and his heartbeat was slow and groggy. He gave her a light tap on the back before removing her from his body.  
“I’d advise against that dear sheep. Believe me, you don’t want this stuff on you any more than it already is,” he said.

She lowered her head, glancing over her body. It had already wrecked her pants while searching for a way out, everything was flecked with black. Her left hand had the tiniest bit on it, and even though much time had passed, it was still wet. It was as though the ink could never dry. She looked up at the man and held his shoulder.

“How do I get you out of this?”

“I beg your pardon?” Sammy replied.

“How do I get you out of this?” she said again. There was a determined glow in her eyes, it was as bright as the red pigment that stained the top of her apron. Sammy leaned backwards, her grip still tightly held his shoulder. What little of his face was visible showed bewilderment and confusion.

“Why…why would you want to? I-I don’t understand, what is the meaning of this?” said Sammy.

The girl squeezed his shoulder. “There’s a human underneath all of this. I saw those creatures on the way in. They’re the same as you, aren’t they?”

Sammy hesitated to respond. “Yes, yes they are. But humanity means nothing down here.”

“Well lucky for you, I don’t belong down here. I’m stuck here, there’s no way for me to get out, or any of you for that matter, unless that old man finds what you need him to find. If I’m gonna be trapped, I may as well be useful and give you a hand,” she said. She let go of his shoulder, placing it on her hip.

“My sheep, you’re making a grave mistake. There is no saving us, only the Lord can set us free, and that will only happen if we follow his orders,” Sammy said.  
“Do you really believe that?” she retorted.

He couldn’t look her in the eyes.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Look Prophet, I’ve spent most of my life cooped up and wings clipped. This isn’t anything new to me. We both want to pursue new dreams, and we can’t do that unless we get out of this dump. So, if there’s any way I can play ‘divine intervention’ and help your guy get us out of here, I’d love to try it,” she said. She looked rather serious.

Under the ink, Sammy’s eyebrow was raised. She didn’t really think she was capable of eliminating a demonic curse, did she? But no, he could tell she was intent on trying. Sammy mulled over the options, stroking his chin as he stared at the floor. He knew there was no hope of getting out, and that made the reality of two humans being down here all the worse. There may’ve been a lot of bacon soup before, but Henry had been pounding it in his efforts to stay alive, there wouldn’t be enough to sustain them both. It had already been several days since the girl had fallen here, and he could clearly see the paleness in her face. She looked sickly. It was only a matter of time before either of them died, and while he knew his Lord’s plans would guarantee that Henry survived to a point, he wasn’t certain the same would be allowed for an accidental trespasser. There was no winning. He’d had to help sacrifice so many employees over the years, he didn’t want his conscience stained with another death, especially someone so young. But the only alternative, it was equally extreme. He would never wish the hell he’d be cast in on anyone, no one deserved to live undead. But what choice did he have? Either swallow her or leave her to rot. It wasn’t fair, it just wasn’t fair.

Of course, his Lord would always be happy to have a little more labor on the premises… _No Lawrence, don’t think like that, that’s what got you into this mess._ Still, how could he justify it? Truth was he couldn’t. He stared at his hands, entranced, his mind blurred. _What to do, what to do. There’s got to be something, I can’t go through this again._ Something within the bitter man had softened. He clenched his left hand into a fist, squeezing tightly, barely feeling anything. _Perhaps, just perhaps…that might just work._

Sammy rose from the chair and knelt beside the desk. He opened one of the drawers to reveal a can of soup, the last one in the area. He raised his head to look at the girl. It was noticeable that she was lost in thought as well. But as quickly as it came, the awkward silence was broken by her cough. It was hoarse and stuffy, she pounded her fist against her chest a few times to try and silence it. Sammy glanced at his nubby feet, taking a deep breath before he stood up. He was a rather tall up close. As she slid off the desk, she only came up to just below his shoulders. He placed a hand behind her back and lead her out of his crumbling office, navigating his way through the music department. He sighed, something broken and deflated. The girl looked up at him in curiosity, unsure of what to expect.

Sammy reached into his pocket and pulled out a keyring. He went up to one of the thousands of locked doors and opened it, revealing a tiny kitchenette that hadn’t been used in quite some time. There was a small couch and a few chairs around a table. He opened a cabinet that was filled to the brim with mismatched mugs, bent spoons, and a few bowls. Could it have been this was a break room at one point? Sammy sat his guest down on the couch and got to work and heating the soup on a barely functional stovetop, while he searched for something else in a smaller cabinet. He pulled out a small box and gave it a sniff.

“Still good. Now there’s a surprise.”

The girl watched him intently as he worked. His movements were rhythmic, each step methodical and practiced, like clockwork. A pinch of this, a little of that, a stir here, a tap on the rim. It was mesmerizing. He returned to the table moments later, a bowl of soup in one hand, a cup of tea in the other. He motioned for her to join him, both sitting in chairs. He pushed the soup to her spot.

“Eat up, there may not be anything else for a while,” he said.

“T-thank you sir, you’re very kind,” she replied quietly. She took a spoonful and gently blew on it before taking a bite. It was definitely bacon, no doubt about it. The stuff was horribly old, she dared not ask the expiration date, but it wasn’t so bad. Heck, a little salt and a few spices would probably do wonders for it. She slowly worked her way through the bowl, leaving nothing untouched.

Sammy watched as he sipped his tea. He hadn’t thought to make it in a while, but even though he required no food or drink to fuel him, the tea on his throat was soothing. Under the mask, his smile was hidden. That felt much better. He moved a hand over his diaphragm. The last time he’d had this peppermint brew, gosh, how long ago was it? Maybe five years after Henry had left? All a part of his personal rituals, something he’d drink before warming up to sing. Even now he could still remember the words, fidgeting his fingers as though he were playing the old chords on his keyboard. He lost himself for a moment, humming under his breath. It wasn’t until he heard the spoon clink in the empty bowl that he realized she was smiling at him.

The girl chuckled. “I’d love to hear the full piece one day. You have a lovely voice.”

Sammy turned away, slightly embarrassed. “You’re very kind little lamb. But I’m afraid that particular composition remains unfinished. It was the last one I worked on before well…before my assignments were changed.”

“That’s a shame, it sounds so beautiful. If I could make anything half as good as that, I’d be rich.” She laughed, a tinkly sort of sound, like a little fairy.

Sammy smirked a little. “You flatter me. I dedicated my entire life to my music before all of this happened. Nothing could be less than perfect.”

“Must be nice getting to work on your craft like that. It’s rare I run into another artist with that philosophy.”

He took another sip of tea. “Oh really now? What field do you work in?”

“Well up until recently, I was a printer. Worked in a shop not too far from here. But that’s all in the past now, they laid me off the day before I wound up here.”

“Now why’s that? You seem perfectly capable to me.”

The girl lowered her head. “They found me out. They learned I was a woman.”

The looked somewhat confused. “I don’t follow.”

“When I applied for the job, I sent in my resume under the name Bryan Ewe. Every shop I’d tried to work at before denied me, wouldn’t even consider hiring a woman. I kept up the act for a long time, wore fake beards, created a whole identity for myself. I was determined to follow my dreams, work my way up to be an illustrator, run my own plates and sell them. But I didn’t even come close,” She buried her face in her hands, “What the hell was I thinking? There was no way I was ever going to make it as an artist. No one ever believed in my dream.”

A small puddle of ink started rising through the floorboards. The prophet noticed, but he chose to keep quiet. He had to be careful.

“Come now, there had to be someone. Didn’t you believe in your own ambitions?”

“Yes, for a long time I did. Maybe that was a lie, there was one other person who believed. My father…god rest his soul.”

The puddle retreated a little from under her feet.

Sammy felt like he was hit in the chest. “I’m….I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine. It’s not like anything could’ve been done to save him,” She leans back in her chair, gingerly holding her hat over her heart, “I’ve been alone in this world ever since. Nothing has made any sense, even less so here.”

She turned away, but Sammy could very clearly see the tears that were sliding down her cheek, gently washing over her freckles. The puddle below her dissipated completely. The ink knew when to back off thankfully.

 _She’s got nothing left. No wonder she’s trying to help us._ Sammy wasn’t one for religion before the incident, but he had a friend in the studio who was once. She’d always spoken to him about feeling ‘renewed’ after returning home from church. Perhaps it may be best if he called her in a little later, she would know how to deal with emotions better than himself. He stroked his chin for a moment. A question had come to mind.

“You said you pretended to be a man named Bryan. What’s your real name?”

“Bella. Isabella Ewe,” She wiped the tears from her eyes, “And since you never formally introduced yourself, am I right to assume that you’re Mr. Lawrence?”

“Sammy, if you please.” He nodded

“Sammy, alright, I can remember that. So, who are they?”

“They?”

Bella pointed at the door. There was a trio of searchers peeking passed the door frame. They slinked backwards upon being noticed, shy and petrified no doubt. But Sammy didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t get angry, he didn’t holler, he didn’t start cackling evilly. No, instead he did something far less expected.

He removed his mask.

“They’re my coworkers.”


	2. Faceless and Fateful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The printmaker known as Bella Ewe takes some time to get to know the likes of Sammy Lawrence and a trio of his Searcher minions, as well as learning of the existence of the Depths. Perhaps it's not only humans that suffer under the guise of the ink.

From the Desk of F.K.E.

Sometimes the most terrifying things in life are the things that aren’t there.

The Shepard was the splitting image of his sheep. A broken jawline, tiny indents where his eyes should be, a lack of nose, the only real difference on the outside was that Sammy very clearly had ears. Perhaps his Lord had thought it too cruel to remove one of the music director’s key tools, no one knew for sure. The searchers carefully entered the room. It didn’t take long to recognize that they weren’t carbon copies of one another. The one in the lead had a much deeper hunch in their back, and they were wider, probably the bulkiest of the bunch. The second to come in was the tallest, lanky with dangling limbs and a narrow face. The last was a dwarf in comparison, like a little Hershey’s kiss next to a bunch of larger candy bars. The tiny one scampered over to Sammy, holding their arms up as though they wanted to be lifted.

Sammy gave a chuckle, carefully picking up the dwarf searcher and setting them on his lap. Bella was surprised to see that they really were just half a body when lifted out of their puddle, no legs or nubs in sight. Sammy gave the tiny ink blot a tickle on the tummy, to which they giggled with delight. It was like the tinkling of bells, something a pixie might sound like, that is, if a pixie had a lot of static over their voice. The poor dear, the distortion ruined the sweet little girl’s sound. At least, Bella was pretty sure they were a girl, the laugh was feminine enough.

“Bella, I’d like you to meet my flock. Go ahead dear sheep, introduce yourselves.”

The bulkiest searcher was the first to step forward. They bowed deeply, a humble smile on their lack of a face.

“A pleasure milady. I’m Lacey Graves, former secretary of SillyVision Studios. Wonderful to have you here,” she bellowed. Graves sounded a lot like a grandmother underneath all the corruption, a tender tone that made her relaxing to listen to.

The lanky searcher offered a handshake. Bella gently accepted, surprised by their grip.

“Kyle Upstead, former mailman. Glad to see I’m not the only sap who fell down here,” he said sarcastically. Kyle let go just a little too quickly. He couldn’t have been older than his mid-thirties from the sound of it, definitely a sour chap. It was good to be reminded that she wasn’t the first with her circumstances, but Bella feared what that meant for her and Henry.

The dwarf searcher wriggled in Sammy’s grasp. He handed them to Bella, who carefully cradled them on her lap.

“Hello!” she said, rather bubbly, “I’m Faye, so nice to meet you Miss Bella!” Hearing her speak was something else. It’s fair to say that Bella expected someone so small to sound like a child, but hearing it only made the realization hit harder. There was a little kid trapped here, where were her parents, how long had she been like this?

The dwarf searcher could see the concern in her holder’s eyes. “Oh, don’t you fret honey buns!” she said, not missing a beat, “Turn that frown upside down, nothing to be sad about with us!” Faye had a whimsy to her that was far beyond any human, that much was clear.

“I-I don’t know what to say,” Bella blushed, “It’s very nice to meet you all though. I didn’t realize any of you could speak before.”

“Why wouldn’t we? Sure, it doesn’t sound so pretty, but it’s not like the Creator is a total monster,” Faye replied.

“The Creator?” Bella asked.

“Well technically these fellas all call him the Lord, but he made me from scratch, so technically, he’s my Creator.”

Sammy picked up on Bella’s confusion rather quickly.

“You probably know SillyVision as being an animation studio, but the truth is, there’s much more to us than that. There was a time when the studio head was trying to bring the cartoons to life, and as a result, we have some Searchers that are just like Faye here, cartoons that didn’t quite make the model sheet,” he explained.

Bella looked bewildered. Living cartoons? Who’d ever heard of such a thing? But it made enough sense for the circumstances. Faye nuzzled her inky little head against Bella’s apron, while the young printmaker gently rubbed her back. _Who’dve thought, there’s a little cartoon, sitting right in my lap. What I wouldn’t give to show Dad and Carmen right now._ Bella held the ink child close to her in a warm hug. Faye cooed, she smiled to reveal a set of teeth, the only searcher of the bunch who had any. They were a tad sharp, but then again, it’s not like Bella knew how the darling was supposed to be designed.

Graves made her way to Sammy’s side, leaning against the table to keep herself steady. She gave him a smirk, drumming her fingers on her side.

“I’m surprised Lawrence, and here I thought you’d be quick to put ‘er on the chopping block. You’ve gotten slower with the sacrificing business, something wrong Minty?” she asked.

Bella flinched a little at the mention of sacrifices. She didn’t want to see Sammy in that lighting. He hadn’t been responsible for this entire operation, that much was clear, but to be the hand that bore the axe? That was concerning. But her mind was ripped from the thought at that horrible nickname.  _Minty? Who the heck comes up with this stuff?_

Looking at Sammy, Bella could tell he was uncomfortable. He looked away from Graves, his fingers looking for something to keep busy with.

“Come on Lawrence, you know the boss is gonna be livid if he finds out you’re slackin’,” Kyle interjected, “First you almost sacrifice the wrong guy, and then you don’t give him the fresh soul when it enters. One wrong step and he’ll drag you back under with us.”

“Drag you back where?” Bella asked.

Graves gave her a stern look, “Sweetheart, you don’t wanna know about the Depths. It’s a terrible place, nothing but darkness and drab.”

“Oh come on Lace, may as well tell ‘er, she’s probably gonna end up there anyway,” Kyle replied. He snorted a little, something apathetic.

“Now now, don’t you be scaring the poor child, she’s probably had enough since falling in this wreck,” Graves retorted, “At any rate, the Depths are where we Searchers are forced to live, underneath here, which is the studio’s Surface. The Depths are inside of the ink, a whole little world that we’ve gotta pop in and out of to get anywhere. But boy, it’s depressing.”

“Oh it’s not so bad,” Faye chimed in, “At least there’s plenty of room to roam around. And the scope is so big that you’re always finding something new down there! I could spend hours running around if I didn’t have work to do up here.”

Graves sighed, shaking her head with a small smile, “You kids, the world is so new to you. I wish I could see it that way again.”

Kyle looked to Sammy, “Sooner or later, you’re gonna have to make a decision. Choose wisely ya nut, don’t make the same mistake twice.”

And just like that, he disappeared back into his puddle, leaving them all in silence.

Faye patted Bella’s hand. “You’ll have to excuse him. He’s still bitter about being dragged down here back in ’45. But I’m sure Sammy won’t mess up, he’s the best!”

Sammy buried his face in his hands. Seemed he didn’t agree with the blot’s sentiment.

“My dear sheep, while I’m flattered by your faith in me, I’m sorry to say I have no idea what to do this time. Everything has been a confusing mess since that old man barged in here. I don’t know what’s right anymore.”

Graves gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Relax Lawrence, you don’t have to have all the answers. We’ve known for years that this would never be easy.”

“That’s not the problem. Graves, I can’t live like this anymore. The constant manipulation, the mania, everything I’ve known is crumbling apart.” Sammy said. His head hung low. Bella could’ve sworn she saw an inky tear trickle down his face.

“Aw come on Sammy, you’ve gotta be strong! One day, things will be better, I just know it! Sure, having a few humans here is a little different, but it’s nothing we can’t handle.” Faye replied.

Graves shook her head. “Oh Faye, there’s a lot you have yet to understand about humans. We may be human underneath, but as a species, those not covered in ink work a heck of a lot differently than us.”

Sammy nodded. “That’s what makes this harder. Mortality is a fragile thing…” He looks to Bella, “I can’t do what they expect of me, not…”

Bella scooted her chair closer to him, still holding Faye close to her. She reaches out and grasps Sammy’s hand, squeezing it.

“You really think I’m going to die down here, don’t you?” she asked.

He nodded, struggling to keep his composure. “You don’t understand. It’s a freaking miracle Henry made it as far as he has. Surviving on nothing but wits, an axe, and expired soup, it defies all logic. And mistaking him for an intruder? It almost cost me what little I have left. But getting punished by my Lord…something within me has changed. It’s almost as if…as if the entire world is falling apart around me, and yet physically, very little has changed.” He squeezes her hand in return. She can feel that he’s trembling.

“How long has he been down here? How long have YOU been down here?”

“Oh gosh, it’s hard to keep time without seeing the sunlight…Graves, do you know?” Sammy asked.

“’Fraid I can’t tell honey. Bella dear, what year is it up on the surface?” Graves wondered.

“1965, very start of it too. We just rang in the New Year a week ago,” Bella replied.

“That long, huhn?” Graves said, “Twnety five down here then, thirty since Henry left us. Quite the track record we’re holding, isn’t it?”

“You’re tellin’ me, I’ve only been around half that time!” Faye chipped in.

Bella stroked her chin, trying to think of something.

“Sammy…what’s it gonna take to set you free?” she asked.

Graves stepped in. “Honey, be reasonable here. You think we haven’t tried to get out of here before? We’ve exhausted all of our options, there’s no way out.”

“She’s right. My sheep and I have done what we can, at this point, it’s merely survival. Not even a new sacrifice would convince the Lord to let us go,” he replied.

“Well I’m not about to accept that. You’ve got a fresh mind on your side now. I’m gonna find a way to bust you out of here, even if I die trying!” Bella yelled.

Sammy could see there was no swaying her, but he was still at a loss as to what to do. He stood up from his chair and took the cup and bowl to put in the sink.

“And to think they called me the insane one,” he muttered.

“Hey, watch it pal!” She set Faye on the table and stood up. “I’m not about to give up when we’ve all got so much to live for! I’ll march up to your Lord myself if I have to.”

Graves slapped Bella’s hand lightly.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“That is quite enough out of you, young lady. Respect your elders and listen up.” Graves pushed Bella back into her chair and pulled herself up, looming over the girl with intimidation. Her form dripped, growing vicious and sludgy. Her voice was hoarse and haunting as she spoke.

“Listen to me and remember this. What Drew did to us is far more complex than you could ever imagine. Demonic magic is a force to be reckoned with, and besides Sammy, none of us have the capacity to undo any of it.  **hE WiLl dEstRoY yOu iF yoU gEt toO ClOse.** So do yourself a favor and stay out of this.”

Bella sat there quivering, her core struck cold. She looked as though she might cry. There was something more than tears shining in her eyes. Graves backed off, clutching her own chest a little, heaving for breath.

“M-my dear…I’m s-sorry.” The old searcher fell to the floor, her limbs sprawled out. Sammy turned to face them. Something was wrong. He ran to Graves' side and held the old hag in his arms, scrambling to figure out what had happened to her. The elder calmed down, finding herself falling asleep in his arms, whimpering like a puppy.

“How did you…” Sammy looked Bella over. This made no sense. Even getting hit with an axe had never caused his flock to react like this. And that’s when he spied it. Encircling the girl’s neck was a chain, with a silver charm in the shape of a heart, a red jewel sparkling in its center. He hadn’t noticed it before, but now that her collar’s buttons had come undone, it was there, clear as daylight.

“Where in the world did you find yourself a protection charm?” he asked.

Bella was too afraid to answer. Paralyzed, she gripped the table for life. Faye shimmied over and tried to pet her hand, only for Bella to subconsciously rip it away. She held her legs close to her chest in the chair, not wanting to touch anything, not even the air.

Sammy carefully set Graves in the corner and moved Faye next to her. He kneeled before the young human and reached out his hand. He was at a loss as to what to say. Graves hadn’t had an outburst like that in years, but even stranger, she’d never been forced to back down either, nothing could stop her when she got riled up. He tried to reason with it, it must be a fluke, there was no way. But he knew better. After all, he’d been forced to study up to perform the rituals, of all people, he knew magic when he saw it.

“Please…I just want to go home,” Bella whispered. She held her head in between her legs, silently sobbing.

“My dear, I’m sorry…there’s really nothing we can do for you, for any of us…We’ve been trapped for so long, we know the consequences are too great if we were ever to try again,” he said. He looked down solemnly, his voice void of emotion.

“T-t-then…” she wiped at her eyes with her sleeve. “If I really am to die down here…please, d-don’t leave me. I don’t want to be alone anymore.” She held her knees closer to her, still sobbing. There was a lump in her apron, pressed tightly in between her legs and stomach. The pocket of it wasn’t fully closed, and with how shaky she was, it wasn’t long before a little black book fell out. Her head still in her legs, Sammy gently inched over to the book. It had opened to a page that depicted an array of sketches, all cartoon characters.

He gently picked it up, flipping through.  _My my, that sure is a lot of detail._ There was something off about it though. There was one little character that differed from the others, the only one that was drawn in profile. A little candlestick with a flame for a head, two gentle pie cut eyes and the warmest smile looking right through the page. This drawing, for whatever reason, felt different to look at, lively and heartfelt. A noodle-y arm with a candle atop it, as though he were a candelabra, reached out in invitation. Underneath his torso, it was written simply. “My Flame of Hope, B. Ewe.”

 _“Flame of Hope” huhn? I wonder…these are hers, they match up too well not to be. Does she really have no one left in the world, are these be her only friends?_ He turned to look at her. So small, so lost and sickly. Truly a sheep that lacked a Shepard. He turned back to the sketch one more time before closing the book.  _If that’s really all she wants, I can oblige her final wishes._

“You, um, dropped something,” he said, holding the book up to her. She looked up, rubbing her eyes before taking the book. She hugged it close to her chest.

“Thank you,” was all she could muster. Bella ran her hand over the cover, lost in thought. Sammy hadn’t realized it, nor had she seen him do it, but looking into the sketchbook was like looking into her heart. He offered her his hand once again, standing himself up.

“Come my little ewe. There’s somewhere I’d like you to see while you’re still with us. Faye, please take care of Ms. Graves, I’ll check up on both of you later.” he said.

Faye nodded and latched onto Graves, sinking them both back into the puddle. Bella graciously accepted his hand and got out of the chair, holding it all the way out of the room. He guided her through several hallways, the sketchbook still held tightly in her free arm. They passed several damaged rooms with splintered boards, but nothing was lurking about, thankfully. The pipes of the machine above creaked, a few leaks revealing themselves along the way. Sammy made a mental note to ask Kyle to patch those later.

Finally, they reached their destination. Another locked door, which Sammy held the key to. Carefully opening it, he led Bella inside, greeted by the sweet scent of weathered books. It was a tad dusty, but Bella was amazed as the sheer number of novels that made up the room. Books of all shapes and sizes were strewn about, built into hefty towers, littering shelves, covering the floor. This place could’ve been its own library if someone had bothered to clean it up. There was a small cot in the back of the room, half hidden inside of a bookshelf. Bella noticed something after the door had been shut, a symbol of some sort drawn on the back of it. She had no idea what it was meant to be, but there had to be something special about it. Sammy turned to face her, pointing to her necklace.

“You never answered me before. Where did you get that?” he asked.

“Oh this?” she held up the charm, “It was a gift from an old friend, Cherie. Finest jeweler I ever met, made it herself.”

“Hmm, may I please take a closer look?” he asked.

She was hesitant, but she carefully removed it and placed it in his hands. Holding it up to his eye indents, he squinted, searching for any sort of signs. There were no obvious markings, he had to look hard to find the twelve tick marks on the back. But the key piece turned out to be the jewel on the front.

“Spinel…said to protect its wearer from negative influences, also great for self-healing. Your friend, she wouldn’t happen to be a witch, would she?” he wondered.

“Not to my knowledge, though it’s not like I ever asked,” she replied, “I take it you follow gemstone myths too?”

“Oh my dear ewe, they’re far from myths. Their magic is very real, a lot of magic is,” he gestured towards the mountains of books, “Welcome to the old study. Pardon the mess, it’s been a while since I had to work in here. As the Prophet, part of my duties required that I do a fair bit of research. Rituals, curses, demonic customs, proper pentagram technique, you name it. Pulled my fair share of all-nighters too.”

Bella stared in awe. “Have you read ALL of these books?”

“Not all, but most of them, yes,” he replied, pleased that she was impressed. “I made sure to protect it with the rune on the door, so nothing could alter the books. Nothing can come in unless invited. I know your time is limited with us in this world, so I figured this would be the best place to keep you safe until well…the inevitable. Is that alright?”

She nodded, walking over to the cot to take a seat. “Thank you, this is perfect. Feels like home.”

Sammy nodded, dusting off a nearby stack of books. He hung his head for a second, not sure of how to talk about what was on his mind. His fingers twitched back to the piano chords from before.

“Sammy, are you alright? You seem a little tense,” she asked.

“Bella…how opposed would you be to…joining the flock?” he said plainly.

She looked at him in confusion. “I don’t follow. What do you mean by ‘join the flock?’ Become one of the Searchers or something?”

He nodded. “Precisely. My sheep, there’s never been much hope for us being set free, but with my recent…moments of clarity we’ll call them, and your arrival, there’s something that hadn’t crossed my mind before, something so crazy that it might just work.”

“And what might that be?”

“I’m not able to return to the Depths and explore them as is necessary, but you might just be. There was a reason behind everything Joey Drew pursued, a plan that he kept secret, even from me, and it all focused on something important that’s hiding down there. If we can find what he was looking for and use it against him, then perhaps there’s a way to get us out of here.”

“Wait, whoa, slow down a sec. You plan on betraying your lord? Using me no less? Why does it have to be me, why not one of the existing Searchers who knows the area?”

“A reasonable question. There’s an unfortunate truth to the Searchers. While not every sacrifice required that people be killed, most of them were slit and bled before becoming the way they are. It was Drew’s preferred method, a way to ensure they lost their hope, though there is another way that doesn’t involve murder. Even if they are freed, they’d be left as corpses upon arising.”

“O-oh gosh…So they’re not looking to be freed to live…they’re looking to be free to die, to find peace from this hellhole…” She held her fists over her heart. She stood up, facing him, that determined flame back in her eyes.

“Why do you think I care for them? Even being sliced by the axe can never grant them the death they crave. They aren’t strangers to me, some were my dear friends. To think that I was possessed to do those awful things to them…I deserve to be a corpse afterwards.”

She got up and ran to him, holding him tightly in her arms. He went and clasped her necklace back on, the gem shining brightly. When she let go, its red hue reflected in her irises.

“We’re not gonna let them suffer longer than they have to! None of you deserve this cruel fate. You met me with kindness when you could’ve easily cut me down upon our first meeting. That’s proof enough to me that there’s good in you.”

She held out her hand to him, a smirk on her face.

“So, when do we start, my Shepard?”


	3. Studying Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While preparing for a ritual, Bella ends up spending some quality time with her new companions, getting to know them and some of their stories. But unfortunately, where there’s joy, there’s also trouble brewing on the horizon.

From the Desk of F.K.E.

You ever seen a college student pull an all-nighter? I know I haven’t, but I imagine that this is what it would look like. Scattered textbooks everywhere, furious scribbling of notes on every scrap of paper possible, scrambling to cram before an important test, it all seems right somehow.

That’s exactly the state in which the study was in for a solid five days while Bella and Sammy were busy at work. The Prophet had briefly become a professor, and Bella’s poor sketchpad was looking more and more like a magician’s guide than it was a space for art. The only available paper that wouldn’t be separated from her, Bella wrote down all the most important pieces of Sammy’s magic teachings down. But of course, with such a supernatural curriculum, there came many questions about the studio that hadn’t been answered by the tapes. By the end of the second day of studying, Bella finally warmed up to her hosts enough to ask about something she couldn’t get off her mind.

            “Hey Sammy?”

            “Hmm?”

            “I um…I don’t want to get into too touchy of subjects with you, but this has been bugging me for a while…”

            He stood up and turned to look at her. Bella was buried in a fortress of books, with only a few candles to light her space. She was wrapped in a blanket that he’d found in the supply closet. The girl’s condition had worsened. She’d grown ghostly pale, started hacking up a lung. No one could identify what it was. It didn’t quite match the flu or pneumonia like they’d initially thought, and nothing they tried seemed to improve the situation. Not rest, not drink, not food, she just wasn’t curable. But she still had that glow in her eyes, that burning passion, a belief that she’d get through this.

            “What might that be my little ewe?”

            “What exactly makes the Searchers, well, Searchers? I understand who they are now, and part of who they were before, but what made that happen?”

            Sammy walked over to her and kneeled on one knee, ruffling her messy hair. Even as a human, she was one of his flock now, and he was one to care for his sheep.

            “Well my dear, it’s not an easy explanation to give, and I’m far from the best suited to give it. Though I suppose Ms. Graves might have an idea of how to explain it. Why do you wish to know?” he asked.

            Bella looked him in the eye sockets, shivering a little.

            “That is what you plan to do with me, isn’t it? I want to understand as much as I can about what’s going to happen.”

            Sammy pondered this for a moment, stroking his chin in thought. That was true, they’d discussed before that it would be easier for her to help if she truly belonged to their kind, but there were some complications that Sammy was still ironing out, namely how to do it without having to kill her. After all, should they be successful, Sammy was painfully aware of the consequences. Almost all the previous employees had died to make this happen. When the ink was cleared, they were likely to remain dead and have their souls depart to wherever they belonged. There were very few who hadn’t faced such circumstances, and should they all be freed, he wanted to make sure she was among them.  

* * *

Even in illness, Bella had done just as much to take care of Sammy and his Searchers as he did her. Whenever they took a break, she’d talk to all of them, ask them questions, give them something to smile about. A few times she and Faye managed to trick Sammy into playing for them.

“Come on come on! We can’t let him catch us!” Faye said.

The tiny Searcher struggled not to giggle as Bella hurried over and hid in the music room. The playful spirit had convinced her new friend to send Sammy on a wild goose chase through the music department, ending in the only place that featured a piano. The dwarf searcher had moved some chairs to give them some cover, which is exactly where Bella ran to while Sammy was on her tail. Sliding to join the ink blot, Bella grinned, keeping as quiet as possible while Sammy entered, looking confused.

“I could’ve sworn they went in here,” he said to himself.

He looked around, moving instruments around and the like, but he couldn’t find them. He played ignorant in part, knowing that Bella had to have hidden behind something larger, but Faye he actively searched for. She could hide anywhere, and he knew she liked going under his bass fiddle, but even lifting that up, he didn’t see her. Too focused on the familiar, he hadn’t noticed that parts of the rooms had been rearranged. His last stop was checking inside the piano, but instead of his sheep, he was met with a pile of papers thrown together in a paperclip. Picking it up, he gently leafed through them, finding that this was one of his compositions. He shook his head and chuckled.

“My my, now why would my song be IN the piano? That’s not how music works!” he said rather loudly. He pulled out the stool and arranged the papers on the stand, looking them over briefly. “An interesting choice. Seems a specter really wants to hear The Pixie Parade. Gee, I wonder why.” His sarcasm was dripping all over the place as he stretched his arms out and cracked his knuckles. His foot on the peddle, he began to play.

Bella watched in awe as the music man wove a magical story through the song. She held her breath trying to stifle a cough, not wanting to interrupt the maestro. Faye, who could hardly sit still before, sat there entranced, quietly crawling out as the song progressed. It was then Bella noticed that her tiny companion began to dance. It was a little strange to watch someone without legs dance, but that was just fine. She spun and sank, stretched and squashed, the tiny child was as animated as any cartoon should be.

By the time the song ended, Faye had made her way to the piano and curtsied before her Shepard. Bella had long since crawled out of their hiding spot and took a seat to listen, but now she stood up and gave them both a round of applause. Sammy bowed sheepishly and went to gather his music.

“That was amazing! Both of you are so in sync, I’ve never seen anything like it!” Bella exclaimed.

“Aw shucks, ya flatter me too much Bell-bell,” Faye said giggling, “We’ve had a lot of practice. I make him play it a lot, it’s my favorite.”

“Oh hush you, you only say that because I wrote it for you,” Sammy replied, not looking away from the papers.

“Wait, really?” Bella asked.

“Yep! Just for me, but it’s the best for more than just that,” Faye said, “Shame it never made it in the show though, I would’ve loved to perform it for everyone.”

Sammy patted her head gently. “In time my little sheep. There’s a stage waiting for everyone, you never know when you’ll be asked to stand on it.”

Bella had wondered about that for a while. She didn’t remember a character like Faye from when the cartoon still aired. From the sound of it, it was quite possible that her friend was a rejected concept. But they why would they try to bring her to life? And if she was truly a reject, why would Sammy have a song just for her? It was a very confusing matter, and for Faye’s sake, she didn’t pry further into it.

* * *

There were many instances like this, where Bella would play along to make someone’s day. Most notably though, Graves found herself comforted in the human’s arms, enough to open up to her about the good old days.

“So that’s why you call him Minty?”

“You bet Butterscotch,” Graves chuckled, “Like my old man used to say, the best way to get to know someone is to figure out what their sweet tooth fancies.”

The two had been swapping stories in Graves’ old office for hours the day before, digging through her secret candy drawer. There were little bags of sweets for everyone who used to work there, each labelled with who liked what best. As it turned out, Sammy really enjoyed peppermints, with Andes’ Candies as a close second.

“Though he’d never admit it,” Graves explained, “He’d never take anything unless it was after a lot of singing, never risked damaging those angel pipes of his.”

“Was he really that good?” Bella asked.

“Sweetheart, he was divine. You’d never heard a man so overjoyed in all your life. When I wasn’t taking calls for Mr. Drew, I’d sneak myself a listen. He was so sad when he lost it though,” she replied with a sigh.

“Wait, lost it? Like, he got laryngitis or something?”

“Worse. The Lord stripped him of it once.”

The look of horror on the girl’s face was only met by a neutral stance from the elderly Searcher.

“W-why would he do that? What did Sammy ever do to warrant that kind of punishment?”

Graves smirked, shaking her head. “You have a lot to learn about our Lord my dear. He may be merciful part of the time, but he didn’t start that way. It was no punishment, oh no, he was just looking for amusement. And poor Minty, he was already losing his mind. He begged, practically pleaded for it back. Kisses all over the boots and all that.” She shook her head in disgust. “Lawrence was never a kiss-up, not the one I knew. But this ink business, it changed everyone, inside and out.”

“So, what convinced the Lord to give it back?” Bella asked shakily.

“You know, that part I could never figure out. It’s like he just got bored of it one day. Whatever it was, it’s not likely to happen again. Sammy performs best with his chords, manages to run things smoothly with something that gives an illusion of comfort. Most of the Searchers trust him, and the Lord knows that. Makes him too easy to make an example of though.”

“An example? Of what exactly?”

“An example of what happens when you don’t live up to the expectations of the Ink Demon,” she sighed, “Sammy’s taken a lot of beatings for us, I give him far more grief than I should. Just before you got here was the worst of it though.”

Bella shivered. “What happened?”

“Well you already know about good ol’ Henry. When he came back, almost none of us could recognize it was him. He hadn’t aged well at all, not to mention we were still frazzled at the machine getting turned back on. Sammy just thought he was another intruder, just like Kyle was back in the 40’s, and planned to sacrifice him. But before he could finish the job, the Lord interrupted and dragged him back under, giving Henry the opportunity to escape to the lower levels. I haven’t gone down to investigate, but I pray he hasn’t been found yet. Heaven forbid some of the boys get overworked down there trying to catch him.”

“Dragged him under? To the Depths, right?”

Graves nodded. “It was strange to see him there again, but it wasn’t a pretty sight. The Lord really walloped him good. His wounds were so good that the ink couldn’t heal him fast enough. His poor face, so many cuts, they practically ripped it to shreds. If there weren’t magic involved, he’d have been scarred permanently. He couldn’t come back to the surface until about a day before you arrived, it was ugly.”

“That doesn’t sound right. How can that be when he has no face?” Bella wondered aloud.

“It’s quite simple actually,” the elder replied. She reached for an old photograph on her desk, so caked with dust that the picture in the frame wasn’t visible. “Within the Depths is the only place where we aren’t covered in ink, the only place where you can see us for who we really are. The ink goes back to the environment and lets us breathe for a while, though it’s hardly comfortable with the Ink Demon watching your every move, almost as much as he does up here.”

Bella gently took the photograph from Graves and wiped off the layers of dust with her sleeve. Underneath was a lovely picture of a grandmother with her two grandkids. All of them had the happiest smiles, their eyes sparkling. The old woman had wispy locks of grayed hair, tied back into a sophisticated bun with a braid around it. There were many wrinkles in her face, but she seemed so content with the two kids on her lap.

“This your family?” she asked.

“Yep, my grandsons. Gosh, hold old must they be now? That’s such an old picture, I’d be willing to bet they’re somewhere in their mid-thirties now. Probably have families, beautiful wives and kids. What I wouldn’t give to see them one last time.”

Bella could see the tears in Graves’ eye indents, tiny rivulets of ink that shook as they fell. The young lady held the elder tightly in her arms. She’d long since taken her apron off, leaving her only in the tattered remains of her old disguise, now made messy with the inky tears. Graves silently wept for a long time that day.

But when she had herself composed, she refused to let her guest stay in those rags. Digging through her desk, she found her old company shirt and slacks, a backup set of clothes that resided in an overnight bag. Seemed like Graves was overprepared. Bella got the button up polo on alright, along with the tan dress pants, but she was practically swimming in both, given her diminutive size. She was about to put her pageboy cap back on when Graves stopped her, tackling her tangled locks with a hairbrush.

“No way am I letting you stay a wreck while you’re living with us,” she said firmly, “A lady should always look as dignified as she can, especially at your age.”

* * *

Sammy wasn’t ignorant. Ever since spending time with Graves, his newest sheep had been much gentler with him. He knew full well that the old woman was just trying to protect them both, but it bothered him that she felt sorry for him. He felt unworthy of such pity, even when he knew his punishments were unwarranted.

“You’d be right my sheep, that is the plan. The most I can say is that there is a very specific ritual involved. But I can assure you that nothing harmful will occur,” he answered, “How have you been feeling?”

She coughed a little. “Not great, it’s gotten harder to breathe. Feels a lot like when I visited my uncle Mikey, had a house full of asbestos.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if we had a little of that forming down here, though the ink generally does a good job with the upkeep.”

            Bella cocked her head to the side. “You all keep talking about the ink as though it’s alive. Is it, or am I just misinterpreting?”

            “Now there’s a question I can answer,” he replied, “The ink is a complicated creature. In a way, it is alive, but it’s life comes from those that are a part of it. It holds all of us in its embrace, keeping us healthy and caring for the studio so that we might survive here. It can’t fix everything, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, but it tries its best. In the end though, it serves the one who put the magic into it, our Lord. It carries a part of his essence, and as such, it thrives off strong dreams, the one good thing he had.”

            “So…after you got-”

            “Punished, yes, it was the ink that healed me. Though the pitiful thing, it must be overworked with so much commotion happening. Ever since Henry arrived, our Lord has kept it busy, along with deploying some of the tougher Searchers to find him. We’ve come up empty so far, no one knows where he’s hiding,” he said.

            Bella was still hung up on the first part of it. She started hacking up a lung again, shivering as she bundled herself tighter in the scratchy blanket. Sammy winced. This was painful to watch. Her health was decaying rapidly.

            “My sheep, please consider taking some time to rest. I don’t want you to overexert yourself.”

            She wheezed, sniffling a little. “Sammy, I’m gonna be fine. Come on, we still have work to do, at least let me finish this chapter first.”

            He sighed in defeat. “Alright, finish the defense summons chapter, but that’s it young lady.”

            She chuckled weakly before saluting, still cheery as ever. “Aye aye captain.”

Sammy carefully exited the room, closing the door behind him, only to be spooked by the dwarf Searcher that waited for him.

“Heya Shepard! What’s up?” she asked enthusiastically as ever.

He jumped a little. “Faye! I thought you were supposed to be on the upper levels today, what are you doing here?”

“I finished early, figured I’d come check on you. How are you and Bell-bell doing?”

“We’ve made a remarkable amount of progress today, I’d say a little more time and she’ll be ready to join us,” he replied.

Faye clapped her little nub hands in excitement. “That’s wonderful! Great work! So um…how long until the ritual do ya think?”

Sammy sighed. “That’s where I’m struggling,” he motioned for the ink blot to follow him as he walked back to his office, “The trouble is, I can’t figure out how to do it with her so weak right now. Whatever she’s sick with is getting worse, she won’t last much longer. Nothing Graves and I have done has worked.”

“Why don’t you just give her a little ink?”

“Faye, it’s not that simple. I can’t just-”

“Cut the act Samsam,” Faye slapped his leg as they entered his office, making him wince as she climbed her way onto his chair, and then his desk.

“You know I can smell your fibs from a mile away. What’s this really about Sammy? Why are you holding back?” She stared him down sternly, much more serious than usual, arm nubs crossed.

“Faye…you know I don’t want to do this. You saw what he did to me after my last mess up. What if he takes his anger out on her down there? You know full well I can’t be there to protect any of you, I can’t enter the Depths unless I’m dragged. She’s got no idea what’s down there, but I do, and I can’t protect her at all,” he leaned against the doorframe, banging his forehead on it lightly, “Even with all this studying, I can never prepare her for what’s coming.”

“Tsk tsk, Sammy, have a little faith will ya?” Faye put her hands on her hips after motioning for him to come over. “Give the girl some credit, she managed to stay on the surface and live for a good amount of time before you showed up. And look at how good she’s been with Graves. I haven’t seen her so happy in years! You and I both see something in her, but instead of giving it a chance to blossom, you’re not willing to take a risk. Sammy, she could fix so many of us down there!”

“She could…she really could. I want to believe that she and Henry can really help us find salvation, but they’re risking their lives on a huge ‘maybe.’ It’s all too uncertain, it’s not worth living undead for the rest of eternity. It’d be more merciful to let both of them die naturally than to drag them into this mess further.”

“Sammy, no one else is gonna die in here,” she said. The tiny searcher cupped his cheeks in her hands. “Chin up! We’re gonna do the best we can, and that’s all that matters! Dare to dream that we can make this right!”

Sammy held one of her arms against his cheek, using his other hand to pick her up and hold her close.

“What would I ever do without you? Thank you, Faye.” He gave her a little squeeze before setting her back on the desk.

“It’s what I’m here for,” she said with a tiny salute, “Would it make you feel better if we gave her some of my ink as a trial run? I’m one of the more stable toons of the bunch, that might help.”

“My sheep, I couldn’t ask that of y-”

“You’re not, I’m offering. Come on Samsam, it’s the only thing that’s gonna help her at this point. And if she doesn’t react well to it now, then this whole ritual is moot anyway. May as well know that now rather than later.”

Worded like that, he couldn’t argue with her. There was a good amount of banter that went around as Sammy went around looking for the necessary tool to get started on that part of the job.

When the two of them returned to the study, they found Bella with her eyelids drooping, hunched over her sketchbook whilst scribbling furiously. Whatever she was drawing, she seemed in a hurry to get it down. Sammy cleared his throat, to which she perked up and looked at him, her face like that of an alert chipmunk. She blushed, slinking back a little before closing her sketchbook.

“I thought I told you to get some rest,” Sammy scolded.

            “Sorry, just wasn’t tired,” Bella said before taking a long yawn, covering her mouth daintily.

            “You’re a worse liar than Sammy!” said Faye. The ink blot laughed heartily, nearly falling off her perch.

            The Shepard walked over to her barricade of books and sat down next to her. He placed a hand on her shoulder and used the other to remove his mask. Staring at his lack of a face, she braced herself. Call it a hunch, but something in her gut told her there was bad news on the horizon. He took a deep breath before speaking.

            “I’ve been talking with the rest of the flock to try and figure out how to go about this. I don’t want to have any unnecessary risks, especially given your condition. So, we have something we’d like to ask you,” he said. Reaching into his pocket, the prophet pulled out what looked to be an insulin needle, filled to the brim with the shining black ink.

            “As you already know, the ink does have a number of healing properties in its package. I don’t think any of us are ready to have you submerged, but I can’t have you getting worse before we’re done. Faye donated some of her ink in hopes that you’ll let us use it to try and fight this illness,” Sammy’s tone dipped, a small crack in his usual façade, “Please, would you be willing to try it for us?”

            Bella hesitated to answer. She still hadn’t fully grasped the reality that she’d be drowned in a few days’ time, and this? This just made itsettle in a little more. But she knew she couldn’t turn this down. She hadn’t let on just how bad she’d been feeling. Hell, she’d tried to stand up and go to her cot while Sammy was away, but she could barely stand.

            She nodded. “If that’s what necessary, then stick ‘er in me,” she looked up to Faye with gentle eyes, whispering “thank you,” ever so meekly.

            “Alright, I promise, it’ll be quick and painless,” said Sammy.

            Faye hopped down from his shoulder and wiggled her way to Bella’s side, latching onto her hand and squeezing it firmly. Bella gave Sammy her left arm, and he stuck the needle in. She winced and looked away, squeezing Faye’s hand in return. Needles were never her favorite, but this was a necessary evil. The black liquid was all too eager to enter through her pierced skin, leaving a dark, veiny trail, like a cracked road after an earthquake, in the flesh around where the needle had gone. No sooner had Sammy removed the tool, then she felt her eyelids sagging further. In mere moments, she’d fallen unconscious, with the Shepard catching her head so it wouldn’t hit the books.

            Sammy carefully carried her to the cot in the bookshelf and laid her down on her stomach. He lifted the back of her shirt and prepped his canvas, reaching into his pocket for a few more tools. Faye cocked her head in curiosity as she approached him.

            “Wait, what’s all this for?”

            “For the upcoming ritual, there are a few seals and other such runes I need to have drawn, and they’re fairly intricate. After last night, I know she’s a fairly sound sleeper, and it’ll be easier to do it now when she can’t wiggle around on me,” he said. He reached for an inkwell on one of the shelves and sat beside the human, pulling a brush from his pocket. “Could you do me a favor and make sure she stays asleep until I’m finished?”

            Faye nodded and gave him a thumbs up. “You’ve got it Samsam! One dream of sugarplums coming right up!”

            The dwarf searcher skittered over to Bella’s head and laid herself besides the girl. Taking a moment to get comfortable, she snuggled up to her new friend and pressed her forehead against the girl’s, purring every so slightly as she too drifted to sleep. Sammy made haste and got to work. All the while, Faye wove together a wonderful dream for the both of them that would last well beyond what was necessary.  


	4. Sugarplum Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faye and Bella have a heartfelt conversation within the dream world.

From the Desk of F.K.E.

Everything was dark and blurry, save for a single beam of light from above. Bella carefully tried to stand up. She felt lost and disoriented in the darkness. It blanketed everything like a wet washcloth, like it couldn’t decide if it wanted to be warm or cold. She took some steps towards the spotlight, squinting to try and see what was under it. She could discern a figure, a very petite figure, clad in black and white with bits of gray. She rubbed at her eyes, but nothing could clear her blurry vision. Strange, she had perfect eyesight, never needed glasses before, why couldn’t she see anything?

            “Bella? Can you hear me?” A voice called out. A gentle voice, a little childish, feminine, charming, a voice just like…

            “Faye? Faye is that you! Where are you?”

            “Shh, it’s okay, I’m here.”

            The spotlight and the figure under it walked closer to Bella, until they were right in front of her. Though she was still blurry, Bella could still understand when she motioned for her to come closer. She kneeled beside the petite form, and in turn, the figure gave her a peck on the cheek and rubbed her eyes. After blinking a few times, Bella’s vision was crystal clear.

Before her was an adorable cartoon character. She was a little fairy, small sure, but graceful and majestic in ways Bella hadn’t expected. She had beautiful curly hair in the darkest black pigment that went down to the backs of her knees. Around her head was a lovely wreath of silvery leaves. Her clothing looked like it was made from all the things you’d commonly find in nature, leaves, vines, and flower petals. But of course, the main attraction had to be her fluttering wings. They were gorgeous, as though crafted from the finest silk, they glittered as they moved in the light.

“You alright Bell-bell?”

Yep, this was definitely Faye, no doubt about that. Bella had so many questions, but she wasn’t sure where to start.

“Faye, what are you doing here? I-is this really you?”

The fairy giggled and held Bella’s hand in hers. “Yeah, it’s really me. I know you haven’t seen me like this before, but it won’t be long before I look like this all the time for you, well, minus the wings. Those are just my own creative license.” She squeezed Bella’s hand gently. “Sammy asked me to make sure you stayed asleep while he got work done, so I entered your dreams for the night.”

“Wait, what? Why would-”

“He has a lot of ritual stuff to do tonight, prepping your body and all that jazz. I know, it’s probably really weird to talk about this,” she blushed a dark gray and looked away, “I guess this is just a normal enough occurrence for me that it’s not so weird anymore.”

“Faye, n-no worries, okay? Look, it’s not the most comfortable idea in the world, but I’ll learn to get over it, alright?” Bella wrapped her arms tightly around the little fairy and hugged her. “I don’t understand a lot of what’s going on, but it’s gonna be okay. I have to trust you guys, you know what you’re doing.”

Faye sniffled a little and hid her face in Bella’s chest. “You’re so different from all the other humans. They all tried to get out of the studio, even when they knew they couldn’t. I don’t get it, why haven’t you tried to run away?”

Bella thought about this for a moment. She wasn’t sure herself, trying to escape was the logical answer after all.

“Maybe it’s because I’m needed here. Outside the building, there’s not much waiting for me. I have no job, no home, no family, and my best friend is all the way in another state, probably forgot all about me,” she replied. She tried to laugh it off, but she did a horrible job at masking her pain.

“Sounds more like you need us,” Faye said, “I’m sorry about what happened. I wish I could make it all better. That’s what I was made for, to give people joy, but I’m not too good at it. People here are never happy.”

The fairy snuggled up to the human, getting them both to sit on the floor for a while. Bella could relate, she’d felt this often as of late, like no one wanted to be happy, no matter how much she tried to give them a chance at it. But you can’t force people to change, she knew that. She played with Faye’s locks for a while, rubbing her shoulder while she held her tightly.

“Honey, something tells me that the people here would be a lot worse off without you. I’m certain Sammy would be. Sometimes it’s not obvious, but we all help each other in our own ways. Sometimes something small can be so much bigger than it first seems.”

She held Faye closer to her, wondering if that had been the right thing to say. The human knew she wasn’t the greatest at pep talks, but this was Faye, the one person in the world that would never stop believing in the best in people. To be able to keep that belief was important. Bella hadn’t seen her friend interacting with anyone outside of Sammy and Graves, but with them, she knew the fairy was a light in the darkness. Faye cooed, getting comfortable in the human’s arms. She looked so peaceful, Bella thought, they could stay there forever and be totally fine.

The tiny fae eventually wiggled out of Bella’s arms and went to stand back in the spotlight. She plucked one of the leaves from her wreath and kneeled on the ground, lifting it up like dirt and burying the silver plant beneath it. Whispering so softly that the human couldn’t hear it, Faye recited a short incantation, and slowly the darkness lifted. There were sparkles and glittering lights everywhere, a pixie dust that washed away the inky black into a colorful field of flowers. The sky was like a robin’s egg, a protective shell of blue, with a sun shining over the wild orchids and marigolds. Bella forgot to breathe for a moment, taking in the beauty. From the spot where the leaf had been buried, a sapling of a tree had sprouted, delicate and youthful. Faye smiled knowingly and latched onto Bella’s hand.

“We don’t have forever to spend here, but I wanted to give you a safe place to come back to. What’s going to happen soon, it can be…difficult, to adjust to. I just…I don’t want to see you lose yourself,” she said.

Faye had never been hesitant in the brief time Bella had known her. If even Faye was serious and glum about the upcoming ritual, she had every reason to believe that there was something amiss.

“Faye…what’s gonna happen to me? I know you guys have the best intentions, there’s no doubt in my mind that you’ll all make the right decisions, but I need to know. It’s clearly bothering all of you,” she pleaded. She grasped the fairy’s hand tightly, holding it with both of her own. “I promise, I’ll do whatever I can to make this easier, okay?”

“That’s the thing though, there’s just no way to do that,” Faye looked straight into the human’s eyes, tears forming in her own. “I don’t want to say goodbye, when I’ve only just met you. And now I’ll never get to know you, no one is ever the same once they’ve been submerged.”

Bella nearly felt her heart stop at that. “Goodbye? I don’t understand.” She felt cold inside, shivering.

“There’s something Sammy will tell you, I know for certain he’ll say it. ‘Once you enter the ink, you’ll never be the same again.’ It’s true. I was there for that part, I saw people change. They stopped being themselves after a while, it was horrible. I don’t want to see that happen to you!” She flung herself at the confused human and bawled in her shirt. Bella tried to calm her down, but nothing would stop the tiny child’s sobbing.

“I-I don’t want to see your fire go out…it’s been dim since you got here. Bell-bell, please don’t lose your light, you’re one of the few people I’ve ever seen it in.”

“Hey, hey, calm down Faye,” she said gently. Bella held her close, giving her a peck on her forehead. The fairy whimpered before looking up, wiping the tears from her eyes. Bella held her shoulders firmly, looking her dead in the eyes.

“I may not be the wisest soul on Earth, but this much I know. No matter what happens, I’m still gonna look out for you guys. Faye, nothing could ever take away my love for you. I’m doing this because I believe it can make things better, I have to be okay with whatever happens, or it will never work.”

Faye’s heart sunk. As inspiring of a speech as it was, she saw what really motivated those words. Something grim finally clicked in Faye’s mind.

“You’re dying.”

It was barely a whisper, but in the silence of the flower field, it was easy to hear. Bella merely nodded.

“Is that how you see it? That this is the end?”

“It’s the end of my life as a human, that much is clear.”

She held up her arm and rolled up her sleeve. Even in a dream, the veiny black was still there, it had spread to her wrist, beginning to trail up her pinky.

“How can I be human when I’ve got a piece of the studio in me?”

Faye’s eyes widened, “How did you know?”

“Wasn’t exactly hard to figure out,” Bella replied. She traced over the black veins with her fingertips, as though tracing constellations in the sky. “Before I heard you, there was something else. The darkness, it wasn’t silent. There was something trying to speak, something that hadn’t reached me before. And I could be mistaken, but you’re a part of it, aren’t you?”

Faye sheepishly nodded. “That’s the ink. It has a voice of its own, the voice of the studio and everyone who belonged to it. We’re all together, all a part of something larger.”

“And now it wants Henry and I to become a part of it. It’s not just Sammy’s plans, the ink has something it wants too”

“Exactly.”

“Why though? We’re just ordinary people.”

“You think the rest of them weren’t?” Faye replied, “It doesn’t want to be alone. The people inside it are close to gone, their spirits are broken, and their hearts drained. You’re fresh, something I’m sure it hasn’t seen before, and Henry, he’s a Creator, just like Joey, having him would be valuable. The ink is hungry. It needs a new dream to feed off.”

“A new dream?” Bella asked.

“That’s what summoned its power in the first place. Joey had a dream, something he really wanted, something he wouldn’t stop working towards. But no one remembers what it is, only the ink knows. All I know is that there’s something in the Depths that he’s trying to find, and it has to do with that dream.”

“Hmm…well, I can’t say I have many dreams anymore, most of them disappeared after I lost my job. There’s only one I’ve got left, and something tells me the ink won’t be too happy with it.”

Faye raised an eyebrow. “What makes you say that?”

“That dream is to save you all from it.”

The fairy chuckled, a pure, tinkling laugh that wasn’t corrupted. “The ink isn’t a monster silly. It doesn’t hurt anyone, just the things that live in it do.”

“Well that’s reassuring,” she replied sarcastically, “Are you saying I’m gonna end up as one of those hurtful things?”

“It’s hard to say for sure,” Bella replied, “Everyone takes to the ink differently, and Joey has different jobs for everyone. I don’t think you’ll ever be asked to harm someone, that’s just not you.”

“But couldn’t that change? I thought you said you were afraid I’d lose myself.”

“I am. There’s no doubt that you’ll be changed, but it’s not like you have no say in that. That’s the wonderful thing about being born as a human, you’re not made for an intended purpose, you get to decide what your path is. I just, well, y’know…”

“You hope I’ll choose a good one, aye?”

Faye nodded quietly, her cheeks flushed. Bella couldn’t help but smile.

“Oh honey, what do I have to worry about? After all, it was your ink that healed me. With a piece of you inside me, I know I’ll never get lost.”

The printmaker held her companion tightly. She’d done her best to be reassuring, that was all she could do. But even with a false sense of confidence, she still felt chilled inside. The prospect of all of this, the idea that she’d be swallowed by something beyond her comprehension was scary. But she had to do it, she’d promised, to do the ritual as well as to save them. There was no backing out now. The fire in her eyes showed itself again, restless and small in its flame. Faye leaned next to her and tried to warm her up. Her inner flame was dim again. It needs some fuel, some extra heat, Faye decided.

“Would you like me to try and explain it? I’m not all that great at it, but you did want to know more, and knowing makes it less scary.”

“Pretty please,” Bella said, “I just want to understand. What does it feel like?”

“Think of it like this. Becoming a Searcher is like being a phoenix. You’re buried in the ashes, but when you come back out them for the first time, you’re still you, just reincarnated to be a little younger and fresher. It’s different, and you’ll have to get used to it, but you’re still you at the core. Who that person is, who you believe yourself to be, that changes with time, but nothing can take that away from you.”

Faye gestured over to the tree sapling. “You see this? There’s a reason I planted this here while you’re still fully human. This tree will grow with you throughout all of this. Some days, it will wilt, other days, it will flourish, but it will only survive if you nurture it. It represents your essence.”

“But how will I know how to care for it?”

“Simple. Take care of yourself. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to take care of you too, we all will.” Faye said, daintily petting her hand.

“Hey, I thought I was supposed to be taking care of you,” Bella said. She pretended to be miffed, which made Faye giggle.

“Nah, it’s mutual. Besides, you’re the baby of the group, someone’s gotta take care of you.”

_For in the end, you will be reborn, little ewe._


	5. Shepard My Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Sammy in need of some time in preparing for the ritual, Faye and Bella take a trip down memory lane through Bella’s dreamscape. But alas, it doesn’t take much for a dream to become a nightmare.

From the Desk of F.K.E.

Faye kept Bella in the dream for a long time. After such an emotional talk, they needed to get their minds away from the harsh reality of things. Faye’s dreamscape was a fantastic place. Everything was brimming with life. It was an incredible spectacle, Bella couldn’t help but wonder how it worked the further she explored it.

She stood in the flower field, taking in the fresh scent of the orchids. It was sweet, untamed and natural. Bella couldn’t help but feel like this was familiar. Something hiding deep in the recesses of her memory made this place feel alive. Where had she seen this before? Had she been here?

Faye sat amongst the blooms, which towered over her tiny frame, and ran her fingers through the soft dirt. Her pie-cut eyes shined with her bright smile, radiating a warmth that rivaled the sun. She motioned for her human companion to sit with her, stroking the petals of the flowers.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they? I hope one day, I’ll get to see real ones,” she said.

Bella kneeled next to her and patted her head. “I’m sure one day you will. Though I doubt they’ll be as nice as these.”

Faye looked perplexed. “But these are from your world. Aren’t they all wonderful up there?”

The artist chuckled, “The real world isn’t quite this fantastic I’m afraid, but that’s all a matter of perspective. There are a lot of places I’ve been that are full of wonder like this, but it’s not like I saw these wonders every day.”

Faye rolled onto her stomach and squished her cheeks in her hands. “What’s it like up there? Everyone here has tried to explain it to me, but it doesn’t make a lick of sense.”

“It’s a bit difficult to describe. I wish I had a way to just show you.” Bella replied.

“Bell-bell, this is a dream! There’s nothing stopping you from turning this into anything you want!” Faye yelled. She perked up, rather excited at the notion.

Bella gave a mischievous smirk, “Alright honey, let’s see what we can do. Where should I start?”

“I wanna see where you’re from!”

“Alright, we’ll do our best Faye. So um…does this work like any other dream?”

“Yep, just gotta believe it to see it!”

Bella closed her eyes, holding her arms out in front of her. She held her dominant hand in the position of holding a pencil, gently scrawling on an invisible wall to warm up. Switching positions, she transitioned to holding an invisible paintbrush, making quick strokes all around. Faye raised an eyebrow, confused as to what her friend was up to. She stood up and noticed that Bella was standing on her tip-toes, carefully moving them with a strange sense of grace. The printmaker’s eyes were still shut as she began to take longer strides, moving about like a ballerina as she whipped her brush around.

In a flurry of sparkles, the brush materialized in her hands, with similar glittering lights trailing behind her feet as she danced about. A sashay or two carried her further, with the paint strokes melting their current reality to unveil a new one. A small house formed around them, with a delightful smell coming from a tiny kitchen. There was a worn couch with a broken armrest, and a recliner that had been well loved, perched in front of a small box. A little girl, no more than five years old, sat before the moving pictures, enjoying another episode from the glory days of Bendy and the gang. An arm held her tightly, playing with her long, brown pigtails, an older gentleman that was as skinny as a twig, with shining brown eyes. His hair was dark and curly, his beard and moustache well cared for, and he smelled like Old Spice. His tanned skin was rather hairy, amidst some moles and freckles. They looked so content together, just sitting there in silence as the cartoons ran.

Faye was almost afraid to speak. This had to be a memory, but who was that man? And what smelled so delicious? Faye turned to see another figure in the kitchen. He looked a lot like the man, but he was decidedly shorter, with a lot less hair on his head. His eyes were as blue as a lake in the winter, full of depth and wisdom. His scraggly beard was much lighter than the first man’s. He whistled as he cooked, stirring some onions and adding sugar to caramelize them.

“Ey Mark, you want cheese in your omlette?” the man in the kitchen yelled over.

“Only a little Ernie, gotta make sure we have enough for dinner tomorrow,” the man in the living room replied.

Faye looked around, not sure what to look at, until she saw Bella sitting on the couch beside them. Faye scurried over to join her, latching onto her arm.

“Bella, what is this place?” she asked.

“You asked to see where I’m from, right?” the artist chuckled, “Welcome to my old hometown.”

She pointed to the man and the little girl. “That’s my father and I from back when we lived in a small town. We moved to the city once Dad got back on his feet, but before that, we lived with my uncle Ernest, the guy in the kitchen.”

Faye looked up at her in awe. “Whoa, really? You lived here?”

“Yep,” the printmaker replied, “went to school just down the road too. It was a good life we had, I’d never been happier.”

“Daddy?”

Faye jerked her head over to look at the girl and the father. The younger Bella pulled at his sleeve a little.

“Daddy, why are they always so mean to Bendy?” the tyke asked.

“I don’t know honey, I suppose you’d have to ask them yourself,” the man replied. He chuckled, ruffling her hair a bit.

“But it’s not nice! They shouldn’t pick on him so much, he didn’t do anything wrong,” she said, crossing her arms with a huff.

The father patted her head. “Oh Bella, some folks are just plain old nasty. They don’t take the time to get to know people before jumping to conclusions. I’m sure if they sat down and just talked to Bendy, things would change.”

“Well I’d wanna get to know ‘im! He’s amazing, and no matter how much people hurt him, he never hurts them back. He’s tough!” She jumped up and held her hands in little balled fists, starting a futile assault against her father’s arm. The man laughed and pretended to be affected, as parents so often do to humor their children.

“Ey, ey, take it easy Isabella,” he said. He carefully scooped her up and blew a raspberry on her tummy, letting his daughter erupt in a fit of giggles.

“Heehee, one day I’m gonna be just a cool as Bendy, just you wait Daddy! And we’ll make a lot of friends together! I’ll show ‘em!”

The father placed her upside down on the couch, both still laughing. “I’m sure you will sweetheart. Just remember to always be kind, that’s what will make you friends.”

“Of course! We’ll always be kind, Bendy, Fiero and me!”

The father cocked his head to the side. “Fiero?”

“Yeah! I’ll show you,” she said excitedly. The tyke rolled off the couch and ran to the kitchen counter. Faye could see that there was a pile of papers scattered with a load of crayons. The tiny girl hurried back with one of the papers in hand. On it there was a crudely drawn candelabra, with a cheeky smiley face on the flame to make its head. She handed it to her father, jumping up and down in pure joy.

“He’s a new character I made as a friend for Bendy! Whaddaya think?”

“Aw honey, he looks fantastic. I think they’d get along great if they met,” he replied. He picked her up and tickled her tummy, holding the drawing tightly as she pointed to various parts of it.

“Yeah! And Bendy would never get cold again, ‘cause Fiero would keep him warm with his flame head. And his metal parts there, they’re arms, so he’s extra good at hugs! And he’s got a bowtie too, all made out of wax, so they can match!”

“You’ve got a lot of great ideas, ya clever kid. We oughtta put this in a plastic sleeve so it doesn’t get damaged. I have a feeling he’s a special fella, just like you,” he said, beeping her nose. The duo laughed as he took her into the kitchen to eat with Uncle Ernie.

Faye looked over at her Bella, who seemed to be lost in thought, holding her sketchbook tightly in her hands. She noticed it was open to the inside cover, where yes, there was a plastic sleeve holding that old scrap of paper taped inside. It had faced some wear and tear over the years, but all things considered, it was in decent shape.

“You kept him for all this time?” she asked.

Bella nodded, rubbing at her eyes. “I drew him a lot growing up. While I may have forgotten how he started, I always kept working on what he would become.”

She flipped through the pages of her sketchbook, showing dozens of drawings, old studies and gestures, character designs, and throughout them all, that little candelabra was shining through. The most recent sketch was his portrait, titled ‘My Flame of Hope.’

“Once Dad passed away, Uncle Ernie wasn’t living here anymore, and I couldn’t reach him no matter how hard I tried. We had lived in the city for a while in a cramped apartment, where I stayed as I tried to find work. Fiero was all I had when the day was over, well, aside from my friend Carmen. But even then, we’d send letters to each other, and I’d doodle Fiero on every one I sent him.”

As if on cue, there was a knock on the front door. Ernie went to answer it, unveiling an attractive young woman and a little boy.

“Hey Ernie, Mark, who’s hungry?” the woman asked. She held up a grocery bag proudly, as the little boy beside her ran inside.

“Bella!”

“Carmen!”

Quick to jump from her father’s arm, the younger Bella rushed to the boy and pounced on him, starting a rough housing match on the carpet. The adults couldn’t help but laugh before going back to their usual talk.

            Faye cocked her head to the side. “That’s your best friend?”

            “Yep,” Bella replied, “He’s stuck with me for years, a good man. He’s found a lot of success over in Syracuse I’ve heard.” Her head hung low for a moment. “Just wish he’d drop a line every once in a while, I miss ‘im.”

            “I’m sure he still wants to talk to you Bell-bell, maybe he’s just busy,” Faye said. She did her best to be reassuring, wrapping herself around the printmaker, but Bella still looked down.

            She did her best to smile. “Thanks Faye. It’s okay though, if he’s moved on from me, I’ll just have to accept it. Besides, I’ve got you guys now, what more do I need?”

            “You’re not upset?” Faye asked.

            “Upset? No. Disappointed, eh, a little bit. But that’s the thing about people, they come in seasons. Not everyone you meet will stay with you all your life, and that’s okay. People change, so do places. Everything is but a memory here, I’m sure it’s changed a lot since I was last there.”

            Bella closed her sketchbook and walked to the back door, opening it to step into the sunshine. The scene changed, a shimmering dust gliding over everything as the backyard became a small park near the woods. There was a nice set of swings, old and creaky sure, but the little Bella and Carmen seemed to be having the time of their lives on them, as their guardians watched from a picnic table not too far off. The printmaker let the memory play, while she sat herself underneath the shade of a golden oak tree, watching patiently.

            Faye looked at her artist friend before turning back to the scene. The children were competing to see who could go the highest, laughing and chatting about the craziest things. Faye noted that they looked a few years older now, maybe approaching ten years old.

            “I’m tellin’ ya Bella,” Carmen started, “Wait until Ms. Bonfonte gets a load of our next projects. She’s gonna be so surprised!”

            The younger Bella nodded in agreement, still pumping her legs as they shook the old metal frame. “I know, she’s gonna love our comic! I still can’t believe we got partnered up for this group assignment, teachers never put us together normally.”

            “Yeah, but you know Ms. B,” Carmen replied. He had a smug smirk on his face as he went to jump off the swings, landing in a Tarzan stance on the grass. “She knows we’re not gonna cause trouble. Besides, when the class gets a load of our newest piece, they’re gonna go nuts for it.”

            Bella hopped down and landed next to him. She bounced excitedly on the backs of her shoes. “They’re gonna be blown away, we’re gonna be known as the best artists in the whole fourth grade!”

            The two continued to scheme, planning further on the elaborate details for their comic. Faye cocked her head to the side and looked up at her Bella.

            “What’s the fourth grade?” She asked.

            Bella chuckled and smiled at her. “It’s a level of schooling. Kids go to school to learn a lot of different things, and the grades are made up of different age groups. Fourth graders are generally nine to ten years old.”

            “Oh, I think I get it now. So what were you learning in the fourth grade?” Faye asked curiously.

            “Well, a lot of things, but I’ve forgotten a lot of it,” Bella admitted, “But I do recall this comic. We were learning about Greek mythology, and our class was asked to tell one of the stories in whatever format we wanted. So Carmen and I decided to tell the story of Persephone and the pomegranate in a comic strip.”

            “Not sure I know that one, how does it go?” Faye asked.

            “Well, why don’t I have them show you.”

            The scene changed yet again to the two kids a few years later, redoing their original comic in the comfort of a treehouse. Faye could see all kinds of drawings and posters on its walls, showing a lot of famous toons that she recognized. The kids were huddled over their drawings on some orange crates in the corner, going at it with ink pens and the lightest pencils they could find. Faye looked over their shoulders, totally unnoticed, as the story unveiled itself. She was fairly impressed, for kids, they did a good job at art. Bella went and pointed to the panels Carmen was working on.

            “Persephone was the beautiful daughter of the Goddess Demeter. The myth behind her explains why the seasons change. Persephone was captured by Hades, the God of the Underworld. She was forced to stay there after eating a pomegranate, the legendary fruit of the Underworld. Demeter was full of grief for her daughter, so much so that no crops on the surface would bloom. The world was cast into an eternal winter, and the humans would not have survived if Persephone hadn’t struck a deal. She arranged it so she could live on the surface for what would become spring and summer, and for fall and winter, she’d live in the Underworld with Hades, her now beloved husband.”

            Faye scratched her head. “That sounds a little weird. They fell in love while she was captured?”

            “I know, we thought it was a little strange too,” Bella said. She gestured towards the art being produced. “But we decided that there had to be a reason why, stuff that wasn’t specifically mentioned in class. Our comic focused on their relationship, and it told a story of how Hades was really lonely and just wanted a friend. Silly I know, but we were kids, we didn’t know any better.”

            “Well hey, I think that’s a nice idea,” Faye replied, “And the style looks pretty good. I almost feel like I’ve seen these two walking around Toon Town before.”

            “Wait, what?” It was Bella’s turn to be confused.

            Faye pointed at the drawing of Hades, where he was laughing at a joke Persephone had just told him. “Yeah, they look a lot like some toons I know from back home.”

            “Where exactly is home for you?” Bella asked.

            “Well that’s the trouble, I can’t quite recall, but it’s a grand old place, full of cartoons walking the streets. We all lived there, doing all the things you’d see on the silver screen. Aw Bell, it was the bee’s knees, if I can ever get back there, I’d love to take you with me.”

            Bella nodded, a gentle smile on her face. “I’d like that.”

            A sneeze from Carmen brought their attention back to the memory.

            “Bless you!” the little girl said, as she handed him a tissue.

            He sounded like a baby elephant as he blew his nose. “Thanks Bella. Man, I really hope I don’t get sick again, don’t wanna delay the comic any further.”

            “I hear ya bud, but it’s fine. Doesn’t need to be finished anytime soon,” Bella replied.

            “But you’re leaving in a few months, and we won’t see each other for a while. I wanna make sure we have good progress before that happens, can’t just leave the story hanging!” said Carmen.

            The younger Bella laughed and hugged him tightly, to which he blushed the slightest shade of tickle-me-pink. “Oh Carmen, don’t you worry. No matter how far apart we are, we’ll make it work, I promise.”

            Faye looked behind her after hearing a small sob. The image of the two children holding each other close hit Bella right in the gut. She held her sketchbook close to her chest, silently crying.

            “I miss him so much…”

 

            The world around them began to melt and falter, its surface turning watery, like fresh tears. As it washed itself away in a panic, Bella felt herself lock up. Frozen, she couldn’t move, like something had suddenly left her paralyzed. Her throat was clogged too, she felt herself struggling to breath under an invisible weight. Faye looked at her in fear, the panic rising in her pie-cut eyes. But that panic was quick to turn to anger.

            “Hey, leave her alone!” the fairy yelled, “Wait your turn, you’re not supposed to be here!”

            A low rumbling filled the vanishing world, with a subtle echo of cackling bouncing off the walls, as tendrils of ink rose quickly from the darkness. Faye backed up into Bella and held her arms up in a defensive stance, guarding the human for all it was worth.

            “Lay off! S-she’s not ready for you!”

            The tendrils made quick work of poor Faye. The girl hardly stood a chance the minute they lashed out, grabbing her like squid tentacles and pulling her into the darkness, screaming all the way. Bella could only watch in horror as the protector of her dreams was taken away by a horrible nightmare. Something soft and whispery hissed in the darkness, barely audible over the little fairy’s screams. The sound of her tinkling voice faded further and further, until Bella could hear her companion no more.

            “What’s the matter dear, cat got your tongue?”

            A strange voice, that’s what it was. Much older, rather feminine, maybe even a little…seductive? It was luring, something phishing for her. Bella found herself panicking internally. She had no control, the dream had become a nightmare, and whatever lurked in the darkness was hungry for her.

            “A shame dear, you won’t even put up a fight? I’m disappointed. No matter. It won’t be long before this is the permanent reality.”

            The shadows closed in on her, surrounding her like a thick smog. The printmaker was desperate, she struggled, but she was unable to force her body to move. Eyes darting around frantically, she noticed her arm, the inky veins within it spreading further. From her forearm to her elbow was completely blackened, dark as midnight with no stars shining. It didn’t stop there though, oh no. The veins trickled, trying to overtake the entirely of her left arm. Hyperventilating, shortness of breath, feeling faint, breaking apart, everything was blurring.

            “It won’t be long my child. You belong to me now. Prepare yourself, in four days time you shall become one of them. Use your last hours wisely.”

* * *

She couldn’t remember if anything else happened, all she knew when the tears stopped was that she was held tightly in Faye’s arms, with Sammy wrapped around the both of them. Bella was too broken to talk. The only noises to escape her were sobs and choking on tears, with her heart pounding at a ridiculous rate.

            “W…w…wha…….”

            “Shhh, calm yourself my little sheep. It was only a nightmare, I promise,” Sammy rubbed her back gently, holding the girl and the fairy protectively. “It can’t hurt you two, you’re awake.”

            Faye shivered, hiding her inky face in his torso. “But Sammy, why was it there? I-I…I couldn’t stop it…”

            “I don’t know Faye…but it seems this is only the beginning. Seems the ink has decided to take matters into its own hands.”


	6. Bound to Only You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After waking from an ink-infested nightmare, Bella is resistant to going forward with the ritual. Knowing what must be done, Sammy calls a meeting with the entity known as the Ink, who unveils to us what must be done to fix the curse on Joey Drew Studios.

From the Desk of F.S.L.

             Four hours. It had been four hours that Bella had shut down, refusing to acknowledge the world around her. The rest of the flock had never known her to be this stubborn, but it was clear she was spooked beyond what they could understand. Perhaps it was because they’d been down there so long, that all of this was too normal, too comfortably routine. They could no longer understand the fear it would strike into the heart of someone unfamiliar with their circumstances. But even without that, Sammy understood that something was wrong, and that was enough for him to act. The Shepard was never the greatest with social activities, but for as crucial as their mission was, he worked up the courage to take on the challenge.

 

             Sammy headed back to the cluttered study and held a candle up, so he could see through the darkness. He went searching about, moving books aside, running his fingers over shelves, until at last, he came upon what he was looking for. He picked up a rather old book and blew the dust off the cover. Revealed to his sight was an illustration of a twisted silhouette, indiscernible as a man or woman, hiding in a sea of shadows. He leafed through the pages, clearly looking for something, but what? He licked his finger and grabbed the pages more carefully as he kept flipping, not at all repulsed by the taste of the foul ink on his tongue. He found what he was looking for, and from there, he exited the study, heading back to Bella, Faye, and Graves.

 

             The three ladies were sat down in the music room among the cutouts, huddled together in a circle between the chairs and music stands. Sammy arrived and removed his mask, setting it and the book on the top of the piano before approaching them. He flipped a chair backwards and sat down, leaning his chest against the backrest, looking to all of them in concern. Bella would not look at him, keeping her eyes glued to the floor. Graves bit her lip, looking over to Sammy with that grandmotherly concern shaping her eye sockets. Faye hadn’t let go of Bella’s right hand all day, and that continued to hold true in this moment. Sammy let out a sigh before finally speaking.

 

             “I’m sorry you were exposed to it so soon. If I had known the ink would pull that little stunt, I never would’ve gone forward with this,” he reached out and squeezed her other hand firmly, “But we must finish what we started my little sheep. If we stop now, you’ll end up with the same fate I did, and that I cannot allow.”

 

             Bella shut her eyes tightly, wincing before she could look up with him. She gently squeezed Faye’s hand before letting go, presenting her now free hand to Sammy. The arm covered in inky veins had grown worse. Her pinkie had more than just a blackened void visible, it was starting to show visible signs of age and decay.

 

             “This is what happened to you,” she said plainly. Her voice was devoid of any emotion. “The ink healed you from the damage it caused, damage that made you all rot.”

 

             Sammy sighed and gave a brief nod. “No one knew it would turn out like this, that was never the intention.”

 

             Faye piped up, holding onto Bella’s arm. “Bell-bell, it’s gonna be okay. I know, I messed up in trying to defend you back there, but I won’t make the same mistakes twice. When bedtime comes tonight, I’ll-”

 

             “That won’t be necessary Faye. I’m not going to sleep. I’m never closing my eyes again if it means that monster can get inside my head,” Bella replied. She gritted her teeth, staring intently at the puddles on the ground. “I’m not going back to that awful place.”

 

             Graves held her shoulder. “Avoiding sleep will only make it easier for them to rip the rug out from under you. Bella, be sensible, this isn’t something you can escape.”

 

             Bella turned to Graves and narrowed her eyes.

 

    “Watch me.”

 

    She stood up and swiftly walked out of the room, legs shaking like crazy all the way. Graves frantically hurried after her, yelling for her to stop. Sammy and Faye turned to each other, exchanging a look of concern.

 

    “What happened back there?” he asked.

 

    “The ink played us like fiddles Samsam,” Faye sighed and shook her head. “I’m an idiot, I should’ve known better than to pry. She took me on a tour of her memories far too willingly, it’s only a matter of time before the ink tries to access more of them.”

 

    “When did it first appear though?” Sammy pressed.

 

    “Right as she was showing me a memory of her friend Carmen. She got…oh gosh, she got really upset, started crying because she missed him!” Faye covered her mouth, realizing what her Shepard was getting at.

 

    Sammy snapped his fingers. “Bingo. It was called back into being with fear and desperation. I think I might have a way around this. My lamb, would you be a dear and please find my spectacles?”

 

    Faye cocked her head to the side in confusion. “What do you need your glasses for? Last I checked you had twenty-twenty vision. And we'll, you know, a lack of eyes?”

 

    “It’s less about the physical and more about the emotional need. Just trust me on this.”

 

    Faye nodded and skittered out of the room, leaving Sammy alone with the instruments. He went back to the piano and set up the old book he’d been holding on the stand, scanning it carefully, fingering over the keys to practice before playing what was written. Sammy stretched out his fingers one last time before closing his eyes.

 

    And with that, he began to play.

 

    While on the surface, his body blew through the haunting melody. On the inside, something much more sinister was happening. Within the Shepard’s mental landscape, he sat at his piano still, the song taking shape in mysterious and manic shadows, dancing around like the flames of a fire. A growling undertone tried to interrupt his song, but he refused to let anything stop him from playing. The growling turned to wailing, screaming, a distorted, horrible noise that relentlessly badgered the man underneath the ink. But still, he persisted with his song, the chords ringing and echoing farther than his mind could reasonably imagine. But he wouldn’t stop, not until he ended the piece.

 

    “STOP! yOu sToP tHat iNFErnAL rAcKet! I will TeAr yOu LiMb fRoM LiMB! hOw DARE yOu pLaY tHaT GaRBagE iN MY dOmAiN.”

 

    “Oops, seems I struck a nerve!” he yelled back, his voice dripping with muted malice. He kept going, the notes gaining a faster tempo, harder to catch. The ink grasped at his wrists with inky tendrils, trying to get him to stop, but he was too determined. And with a final two notes, the terrible screech bellowed again, the world around his mind turning to darkness.

 

    “nO, No! yOu tRaiToR, hOw DARE yOu BiNd mE to yoU! ReLeasE me tHIs iNsTanT! oR sUFfEr thE cOnseQueNcEs!”

 

    The Shepard chuckled lightly and stood up from his mental piano, letting it disappear into the darkness. He shook his wrists out and tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. Wait, hair? He snapped his fingers a little too eagerly.

 

    “Reflecta.”

 

    Before him appeared a reflective wall, like a mirror formed from some of the ink off his body. Or rather, that's how it would normally be done, if he still had his ink. He blinked a few times, surprised by the face that greeted him. The pale young man from long ago stared back at him. Right in his mid-thirties, he was a pale fellow with the most gorgeous blue eyes, the color of the sky at twilight. His curly locks were tied back in a ponytail, raven black and styled to loosely resemble the master composers of old. His overalls had been replaced with proper vesture, black dress pants held up by suspenders over a violet dress shirt. He pushed one of the locks out of his eyes, smiling sadly at the image.

 

    “Incredible. I thought this was lost forever,” he marveled.

 

    The monstrous voice scoffed. “Well of course, you really thought you’d be a monster inside? Have you no faith prophet?”

 

"Well excuse me for being doubtful." He replied. He huffed, slightly frustrated. "But regardless of my own mental health, you know why I called you here."

 

"More like forced me. What is the meaning of this Lawrence? I have no time for the likes of you or your petty searcher problems."

 

Sammy crossed his arms. "Are you that dense? My precious ink, consider for a moment the mayhem you've been causing. Thanks to you, one of our human guests is losing her mind."

 

"What do I care? You'll give her to me either way."

 

"Oh I beg to differ my dear. She's become so resistant to you in such a short time. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she'll quit the ritual and die to escape you." He smirked. "You scared her, now you don't get your fill."

 

"You wouldn't dare let her quit! How dare you even consider stealing away my dinner!"

 

"Ah ah ah," he said, wagging his finger. "When you catch a fish, you have to carefully contain it, or else it will slip away. You've made a grave mistake in entering her mind so soon, she'll resent you forever, never letting you have even a taste of her dreams."

 

A low growl reverberated in the darkness, followed by the whining of the ink. "But I'm starving! Drew hasn't given me my fill in at least a decade. I need more, more more more, you won't keep my precious feast away from me!"

 

"You've already done that to yourself," he scoffed, "You know how Joey is, always takes and never gives. He can't sustain you for much longer. He knows it, I know it, and so do you. He never would've called Henry here if he didn't need stronger dreams, and as the last connection we have before things went south, he's the only one that can fill you again. Bella just won't suffice."

 

The ink huffed and growled. "If I weren't relying on such broken tools, the job would've been done by now. Henry would easily be mine if Drew weren't such a horrible strategist. But even so, why should I help you when you failed to complete the ritual and deliver Henry to me?"

 

Sammy glared. "You know full well that wasn't my fault. The lack of communication on all sides is abysmal. If we don't help each other, we're going to die, and correct me if I'm wrong, but weren't you the one to explain that we'll cease to exist with you? You really want that for yourself?"

 

The ink sighed. "No, I don't.... but it doesn't matter, no human will ever accept me again. Joey was the first and only."

 

Sammy softened his tone. "Hey now, don't lose your hope just yet. My darling, there's still time to make amends. Show our guests your compassion, I know you still have some. They'll warm up to you in time."

 

"Ugh, why did it have to be you?"

 

"I beg your pardon?" Sammy questioned.

 

"Why did Drew have to choose your crazy ass to learn all the magic? You're a horrible thorn in my side Sammy Lawrence."

 

He chuckled, genuinely amused. "Everything happens for a reason, even if we don't know what that reason is. But if I'm a thorn, at least I'm connected to a beautiful rose."

 

"I'm sorry, are you complimenting me?" The ink asked in confusion. It seemed fairly flustered, a weird emotion for a presence with no body.

 

"As much as you resent me my dear, I do enjoy our little chats. It's always a pleasure to hear your voice," he said.

 

"You aren't so bad yourself, 'angel pipes.' But what do you expect from me now? Until you get your human under control, I have no chance of talking to her. I can't catch that damned ex-animator without at least a little snack."

 

Sammy stroked his chin. "I'll try to convince her that you mean no harm, but you can't make a liar out of me. We need her trust far more than she knows."

 

"Lawrence... it's a shame you're always the one playing martyr. You know what he's going to do to you for this once he finds out."

 

"I won't let him." He was too quick to speak. "That man became a monster, and I grovelled in his shadow for far too long. I refuse to be his servant after all he's forced me to do."

 

"My my, seems the sheep found a spine. What brought this on?" The ink asked coyly.

 

Sammy hesitated, a fist clenched over his heart. "I...I don't know. I-i just need to-"

 

"You see it in her too, don't you? She has more than just dreams, she has hope, love, imagination, a feast fit for a king. The exact thing everyone here once provided for me, too delicious to bear. Why, it's everything you once had before-"

 

"That's quite enough." He said defensively. "Those memories are best left forgotten. Now if you'll excuse me, I have my sheep to tend to." He tried to open his eyes and escape the dream, but to his surprise, he couldn't wake himself up. "What? Why are you?"

 

The inky tendrils formed underneath his feet, quickly latching on to his form and climbing up his body. He struggled against them, pulling and twisting, but he just couldn't stop them from squeezing around him tighter. A maniacal laughter filled the air, closing in on him.

 

"Ah ha ha ha ha! You really think I'll let you go so easily? You really think you call the shots around here, that you can summon me and just leave? You're just as much of a monster as I am, as he is, as all of us are! You can't escape the truth, nor can you change your fractured past! I won't let you!"

 

The ink wrapped itself tighter around his body, choking him further and further. He let out an awful scream, it didn't sound human at all. The ink slithered over parts of his body, rotting the surface as it went, gleefully lining his long lost flesh to burn it once again. He clenched his eyes shut. No, he wouldn't let it have the satisfaction of breaking him. Sammy endured the pain, still struggling to breathe with the awful substance coating him. He knew the feeling all too well, the awful conversion that stripped him of his humanity.

 

"Being brought into my grasp did not make you this way Sammy. You were evil as a human, before this ever started. Saving your own hide meant the death and destruction of everyone you loved. Or maybe you never loved them at all! You are a monster, a miserable, worthless monster!"

 

"Enough!" he screamed.

 

"No, it will NeVeR be EnoUgh! i wiLL beNd yOu uNtiL yOu BREaK, SmiTe yOu wHeRe yOu StAnD!"

 

 

"Sammy! Wake up!"

 

The music director found himself in a heap on the floor, heart racing as he frantically sat up. Bella leaned over him, his hands held tightly in her grip. He looked at her face and noticed it was still stained with tears, with tiny smudges of ink around her cheeks, likely from Faye or Graves trying to wipe them away. Her eyes were wide with fear, but it quickly shifted into sadness and relief and she wrapped herself tightly around him in a hug.

 

"You looked like you were having a seizure! I-I was so worried!" She said, sobbing into his chest.

 

The Shepard let his sheep cry for as long as she needed, rubbing her back gently, occasionally whispering words of reassurance. He sat there pondering what had happened, biting his lip at the thought of going back. The ink had been hostile towards him before, this was nothing new, but to open up those wounds, he couldn't fathom why.

 

_It's never been so irritated before. It must be...starving. Joey hasn't taken care of his little pet, without a dream that has hope and purpose, it will cease to exist, taking all of our souls with it. I...I have to do this. For all of them...I can't let myself be a puppet anymore._

 

"Bella..."

 

The printmaker looked up at him. "That's the first time you've called me by my name."

 

"I suppose it is. My dear, I don't want to ask this of you, but I need you to do me a favor."

 

“What might that be?”

 

 

An hour later, the printmaker laid in her makeshift bed, her fortress of spellbooks giving her plenty of privacy. Sammy had promised her that he would be with her, and as resistant as she had been before, having him there melted some of her worries away.

“You promise?”

“I promise. I’ll be right here the entire time, just give it a chance. We can’t have you hobbling around much longer.”

Bella laid her head down, snuggled up to the music director, like a child to their mother’s breast. Her eyes were closed, a drumming in her ears pounding as she quickly fell unconscious. Sammy held her close against his inky body. The candles arranged around them made up the shape of his dear Lord’s head, reflecting off his ink as the prophet recited a gentle incantation under his breath. Were it not so tense in tone, it would have made for a great lullaby, the perfect set of Latin words to send a sheep to sleep at the slaughter. He wasn’t about to let the ink have its way with either of them, no, this time they were prepared. He closed his eyes, latching onto her hand tightly. She wouldn’t go in alone.

The cackling from before continued, as though it were picking back up for both of them. Sammy flinched within the mental landscape, looking down at his ink covered hands once again in sorrow. The same result every time he closed his eyes, how disappointing. Not even a dream world could protect him from the ink. He found Bella in the center of the darkness, blackened sludge holding her captive as she tried to wriggle free. Sammy latched onto her hands and pulled, heaving and huffing until she finally started to budge. With a firm tug, he finally got her out, the two tumbling into each other and landing in a heap, right next to the little sapling that Faye had planted a night ago. It was struggling, the silver leaves looking a little bronze after the last nightmare. The maestro carefully untangled himself from her and stood up, offering his hand to raise her to her feet. She graciously accepted, dusting herself off before both turned to the terrifying darkness that had them both captive.

“Alright my dear Ink, that’s quite enough out of you.”

“Oh, back for more already? I’m starting to think you enjoy the pain, Prophet.”

Sammy’s face contorted in disgust, his nose wrinkled, and eyes squinted. “You’re delusional. I’m here to offer a proposition.”

The voice of the ink seemed to snake around them, the air growing murkier in a smoky trail near his face. “What, pray tell, might that be?”

Sammy held Bella closer to him, protective in his stance. “My sheep has agreed to feed you, on one condition.”

The ink backed away a little, slightly intimidated by the firmness of his voice. “I’m listening.”

“Preserve her in return.”

There was a howling screech that filled the darkness, echoing off invisible walls. Bella covered her ears and hid herself deeper in the shepherd’s arms. This negotiation had been far from what she wanted to do, but how could she refuse the prophet? He understood this world, she didn’t, he had to know what he was doing.

The ink hissed angrily. “You have a lot of nerve asking for that kind of protection. You’d better have some really worthwhile dreams if you want that kind of sanctuary from me.”

Sammy smirked, giving his sheep a pat on the back. “As a matter of fact, we do. We all were wrong to underestimate the flock my dear, I’ve found something very valuable thanks to my newest ewe, something that may just get us all what we desire.”

“And that is?”

“Hope.” He pries himself lose from Bella and takes her decaying hand in his own. “Just within a few days’ time, having her here, being shown some level of kindness, it’s reminded me of what we’ve been missing for so many years.” He held is other hand over his heart, his form slightly drippy with all the emotion. “Why we started this business, why we all stayed. It was because we had hope and belief in a dream, a dream that we could create something wonderful. We have Henry back on the premises now, every member of our starting point is here. If we can mend the broken hearts, bring together all the pieces, we can change the ritual that was cast on this place and turn it into the paradise it was meant to be, I’m sure of it.”

The ink remained silent for quite a while, as though pondering this idealistic garbage. It slithered about, winding, dripping tendrils gently passing over both of its prisoners. The sheep flinched, squeezing the prophet’s hand tighter. He squeezed back firmly, his eyes watching the ink carefully. After a few moments, he felt the ink of his form drip even more, the pace quickening. Bella bit her lip, trying to keep her from screaming as the prophet melted before her very eyes, going down without a word. She sputtered and squeaked, her hand latching onto him tightly before it was forced to let go from the weight. The ink chuckled.

“Relax, I wouldn’t dare kill my finest servant.” The trailing tendrils wrapped around her, careful not to pull too tightly, as another lifted up her chin, like a seductress getting her prey’s attention. “I just needed you alone for a moment. You certainly are a strange little sheep. I’m surprised anyone managed to melt his frozen heart so quickly, he hasn’t been happy since his daughter died.”

“H-he…he had a daughter?” Bella asked. She couldn’t stop shaking.

“Almost, there was a miscarriage. His wife left him after that, blamed him for being defective. He’s retreated into himself ever since, making him the perfect choice as my most loyal prophet. After all, it’s those who are desperate for something to believe in that fall the fastest into the fray.” The ink brushed the sheep’s hair behind her ears in an almost motherly fashion. “So tell me, do you really think you can change this old studio’s fate?”

“S-Sammy seems to think I can,” she perked up, trying to feign bravery. “If he believes in me, then I’ll do the best I can to believe in myself and make it happen.”

“Intriguing. Why do you have such faith in a man who’s going to kill you?”

Bella winced, still trying to avoid the thought. “Because he’s doing it for the right reason this time.”

“Oh, so you know about the others then?”

She nods. “I know…It wasn’t right. None of this is right. Sammy…he didn’t want this, none of them wanted this. He’s trying to fix his mistakes, and even if you can never make up for something like that, I’m willing to help him try. He had a choice, he could’ve sacrificed me on the spot and he didn’t. Instead he fed me, gave me shelter, gave me friends, support when I had none.” She fingers her necklace ever so slightly, clutching the charm like her life depended on it. “He gave me back my life, even though he knew it would only be for a few days. I owe him. If I have to be a pawn so that he and everyone else trapped here can be set free, then I’m willing to do it. Do whatever you must to me, just please, give them what once was theirs.”

The ink paused, carefully cloaking itself around her like a warm blanket, humming gently in the silence. “You…you have purer intentions than I anticipated, it reminds me a lot of how an old friend once was when they were younger. Alright, you’ve convinced me. I’m willing to keep your body preserved throughout all of this, as long as you give me my fill of dreams. However, there is a catch.”

“Yes?” The printmaker raised an eyebrow, curious of the conditions.

“While in the ink…you are one of my many children, a soul with a body that fits one of my molds. The ritual Sammy must complete for you to aid us involves ripping your soul out of your mortal body. I’m no idiot, I know he never told you what preservation really meant, for if he had, you never would have agreed to this. He’s begging that I protect your human body here on the surface while you’re in my domain. I can only do so for so long before the corpse starts to permanently rot.”

Bella trembled, her eyes widened in horror. She couldn’t fathom how this process was ever conceived. “That…that would explain the coffins I saw when I first fell down here.”

“Indeed. There are only a few I’ve been able to preserve. Their bodies are tucked away in a few different places, my prophet’s included. Should everything work out, their souls should return to their bodies by the end of it, completely restored and healthy, while the rest will ascend or descend to wherever they happen to belong for the true afterlife. But without any further dreams, I can’t maintain such a scale for much longer. Thirty years does a number on a force, even one as powerful as myself.”

“So, what you’re telling me is that there’s a time limit?”

“Precisely.” The ink continued to snake around her, gliding on the ground to form a reflective pool as it spoke. “If you can manage to achieve the balance and centralize the belief for me, all will be set free, my personal guarantee.”

“What’ll happen if I fail?” She was too quick to ask.

“Hmm, you ask as though you anticipate it. Should you not succeed in completing that assignment, I’m afraid that even if everyone else is released, those who were preserved will be trapped within the Depths forever, your precious Sammy Lawrence and yourself included.”

Bella stood a step back and watched as the inky pool below her began to ripple, showing a whole slew of characters she couldn’t recognize. Sammy was among them, saddened and hiding his face within his legs on the floor. Next to him was Faye, still dripping and distorted, trying to comfort him. In fact, while many of these faces looked like they were once human, Bella noticed a lot of cartoons thrown in there too.

“Wait…why is Faye there?”

“The cartoons that were brought to life, those that retain their full selves, came from a world beyond your own, the Inkwell. None can remember how to return to it. In setting the studio free, you would set them free too, allowing them to find home again.”

Bella held herself, suddenly feeling very cold inside. Her eyes wandered to her arm, the inky veins having grown just a little worse, now reaching well into the short sleeve of her borrowed shirt. Her ring finger was wrinkled and rotting too, with her middle finger quickly following suit. She’d never felt so mortal in her entire life. Looking at the pool with all the figures in it, she felt a few tears slip from her eyes, falling onto the ground.

As they did, the picture began to change. Old Henry, the man who once animated there, was shown, cooking some bacon soup on a stove top, accompanied by a cartoon wolf. Bella instantly recognized it as Boris, though the lack of life in his eyes was concerning. She felt her heart flutter.

“That’s the other thing I forgot to mention. Sustaining the preservation isn’t nearly as bad as what you’ll have to deal with for Henry. Joey knows why he’s here, and this could go two ways. He could either doom us all with the plans he’s hiding, or you could intervene and make sure Henry plays a different role. He is the key. He could either unlock the door to salvation, or the door to our doom. If he is to perish before the time is right, nothing can save my flock.”

“So, let me make sure I have this right. I’ve gotta make sure Henry not only lives but succeeds in making sure everyone is released. And on top of it, you need me to restore the hope of all the other people here, to keep you alive?”

“That is correct.”

Bella pulled at her hair, her eyes looking manic. “That’s insane, there’s no way I can manage that all by myself! It would take a miracle!”

“Don’t take this the wrong way darling, but you’re the only miracle they’ve got. Not the greatest that there is, but I think you’ll have to be enough. It’s your choice of course, I could just end it all for you now, poison the rest of your bloodstream and release you from this place. You’d never have to worry about us again.”

Bella narrowed her eyes, glaring at the pool and then at her hand. She clenched it into a fist, growling at the back of her throat. “No…I’m not a coward. Even if the odds are against me, how can I not at least try when there are so many lives on the line?” She stuck her hand out as though to shake someone else’s hand.

“You have yourself a deal!”

And with a flash of lightning, a cackling filled the air, the sounds of howling winds and thunderstorms booming all around them as the pool rose. It twisted and bent, forming into the figure on the cover of Sammy’s book from before, latching onto the printer’s hand. Glowing amber eyes grinned at her, devious and excited. With one firm shake of the hand, the printer screamed, a mark of the devil darlin’s head burned into her flesh, sucking all the blackened ink from inside her arm into it on the surface of her skin. Her fingers went from rotten and decaying to slowly losing their wrinkles, delicate and soft, all the callouses and cuts gone. The inky figure directed both of their hands to ink on the floor, having them both reach in and latch onto something. Letting go, it encouraged Bella to pull, the girl still trembling as she yanked on someone’s hand. Rising out of the ink the harder she tugged, was a very handsome young man, recovering his lost breath.

Sammy heaved and gasped, as though he’d been drowning underneath the surface. Bella stared at him in shock, surprised to see the music director looking so human. He didn’t look a day over thirty, his hair still neat and tidy, though his eyes, the bags under them attested to how little he’d been able to rest. Those twilight blue eyes looked afraid as they stared at the printer’s hand, quick to deduce what had happened.

“You did well my prophet, you’ve finally procured a worthy sacrifice.” The ink laughed. Oh, how it laughed, the bellowing bouncing off the invisible walls, shaking everything with its delight. “Yes, you’ll do nicely my lamb. At last, I’ll have some relief after this awful workload from Drew.”  
  
Sammy latched onto Bella and held her closely to his chest. His breathing was quick and slightly high strung as he held the still shaking girl. Bella leaned her cheek up against his chest, listening to his frantic heartbeat.

“Now, about your payment dearie,” the ink said coyly, “We’d best get started. I already told you, I’m starving.”

Bella peeked out from Sammy’s arms, but the man still held her closely. “Really, right now?” He narrowed his eyes in disgust, clearly annoyed.

“Yes now! Would you rather I force you into an early ritual, or burn you again? Hand her over Lawrence.” It snarled.

Bella gave Sammy a pat on the arm, looking up to him with gentle eyes. “It’s okay. I have to learn how it works sometime, right?” She winked, turning back to the ink as calmly as she could.

“Now there’s a good sheep.” It said. The ink’s hand caressed her cheek.

“Just tell me how to do this, I’d rather not waste the day sleeping.”

“Very well.” It moved itself closer, taking the printer’s hands in its own. Its golden eyes lost their malicious aura, something genuine replacing it, something kinder and heartfelt. It grasped its inky fingers in between the human’s, a cool feeling froze Bella’s palms.

“Let’s keep it simple for now. Close your eyes.” The darkness became just the slightest bit brighter as it spoke in a motherly tone, almost like a meditative instructor. “Imagine for me the happiest moment of your life. How did it feel?”

The area around them began to change, back to the small living room from the night before. A father held his little girl in his arms on a beat-up recliner, with a little boy also cuddled up to them. They drew together, the old cartoon playing in the background.

 “Warm, full of love perhaps? There was light, wasn’t there? Like you were walking on air?”

Pure bliss, that’s what it was. Home, this was home, this was life, this was happiness.

“Family all around, people you cared for. Delight in the simple act of creating. Ah yes, that is the best kind of memory. You dream of a better time, don’t you? One where you weren’t alone?”

Bella’s eyes watered from underneath the lids. She nodded briefly, her heart aching. As she opened her eyes, she felt the heaviness on her chest alleviate itself. A golden dust trailed from her breast to the space in between their held hands, gathering together into the shape of a shining heart. It had a warm glow, so gentle and fragile, yet strong and pulsing. The ink let go of her hands, then directing them to cup underneath the heart, as though it would fall from its levitating spot. Bella brought it closer to her face to observe. If she peered past its grains, she could see pieces of the memory playing inside of it, the feelings and thoughts made visible in the strangest of ways. The sheep wept for but a moment, rubbing at her face with her shoulder. She carefully passed the heart to the outstretched hands on the inky form before her. The ink smiled, the first time it has a genuine look on its face, so soft compared to before. It caressed the heart as though it were a newborn, cuddling it close to their chest before it was absorbed into its form. Its eyes glowed just a little brighter.

“Thank you darling, that was delicious. I haven’t had such a sweet one in so long. Joey’s got too bitter after a while, you know?” It had a tinkly laughter. “Alright, I’m satisfied for now. I’ll let you two get back to work. However,” it looked sternly at Sammy, “No funny business my prophet. I expect a suitable ritual, done less sloppily this time. I’ll see you at my machine in a few days’ time, ask your muse to start the timer.”

Before either could get a word in, the world was quick to turn to turn to black. Sammy opened his aching eye sockets as he looked around the room. There was a candle moved near a slash mark in his circle, but all the wicks were put out, save for the on directly in front of him. He looked to the girl that was still trying to wake up. She looked so vulnerable in that moment, he couldn’t help but smile softly. _Just like she would’ve been,_ he thought. He propped her to sit up, her eyes easing themselves open. She smiled softly, looking tired.  
  
“Did I do okay?”

“You did great my sheep. Come, let’s get back to the music room. You’ve more than earned a break.”

The prophet stood and helped her up, both leaving the bookish sanctuary. As they finally approached the piano, Faye popped up from a puddle on the stage.

“Hey Sammy, found your spectacles!”

And to think, the fairy nearly dropped them when she saw the two. They were sitting at the piano, Bella’s arm completely healed. There was a lot that needed explanation, but thankfully, there was a little time for that. They’d get the hourglass soon enough to keep track.

 

_It doesn’t matter what all those other people see. What matters is that you believe in you. I know you can do it Sammy, we’ll finally make this right._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Here's the special audio scene for this chapter! https://searchingthedepths.tumblr.com/post/175329514391/from-the-latest-chapter-of-searching-the-depths-i
> 
> Whew! Sorry for the wait folks. I know this fic hasn't had an update since February, I've been working on this chapter on and off for a while, and now with Chapter 4's release, I needed to figure out some stuff in my planning of this fic's direction. The latest update gave me a HELL of a lot to work with, and in the upcoming chapters, I can safely say that we've got a very important and beloved searcher that will be joining us soon, along with some very fun plans concerning the Lost Ones and a card game. Also, once I have it edited, there will be a Tumblr link here for an audio scene from this chapter that my good buddy AJ helped me to voice, so be on the lookout, as it reveals something important for later. 
> 
> As for this chapter, where do I even begin? So let's review what we've gotten accomplished, shall we? We've seen Bella isn't a completely blind sheep but still follows orders, we now have a description as to what Sammy looks like, we have some exposition concerning Sammy's life at home and Henry's importance, the introduction to the ink entity which is SUPER important, and there have been a lot more jabs at who some of these characters truly are. One thing that has really been fun for me is exploring who Sammy is outside of being our friendly neighborhood Bendy worshipper. One of the things I liked about him in Chapter 2's update was his added animation during his ritual speech. Listening to his dialogue, he reads to me as a very passionate character, and one of my hopes in my portrayal of him for Depths is to capture both his passion and compassion. A lot of people write Sammy off as a maniac, but in a really twisted way, I see him as compassionate and caring about his cause. Since his cause in this fic has changed to be focused on setting everyone free as opposed to just himself, I see him embracing the idea of teamwork little by little, knowing full well that he can't do it alone if he wants to get out of this eternal agony. 
> 
> That also brings into play how I'm handling ink creatures. I took some inspiration from Adobe Outdesign of Tumblr, so credit to them for the concept of souls and bodies being separated using the ink machine. To me that makes a lot of sense, as you saw we refer back to it with the coffins from Chapter 1 and the fact that entire bodies have to be constructed from the ink. The ritual in the next couple of chapters is going to be a lot of fun for many reasons. I'd also like to point out that this is the first time Bella will be seeing the Ink Machine as if you recall, she fell right through the drop at the beginning of this story without seeing any of the first floors. She has absolutely no idea what she's in for when it comes time to go to it, which will be tricky given I have the issue of her not being able to get back to the first floor safely. Looks like we'll have to try and seek out the chains on the second floor. 
> 
> There is one small detail I'd like to reveal to you that you may not have noticed right off the bat. There is something important about how I start every chapter. Usually, I write "From the Desk of F.K.E." This time, I've written, "From the Desk of F.S.L." There is significance to this, especially concerning the very last line of this chapter. 
> 
> As usual, thank you so much for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts down in the comments, as we're always looking to improve this story. Hope you have a wonderful day!


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